


En Releve

by wordslinger



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Annaleen, F/F, F/M, annalogia, jerza - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinger/pseuds/wordslinger
Summary: Her daughter’s fouettes weren’t as flawless as hers still were but Erza’s strength hadn’t ever been her solo work. She reached for stars Eileen would never be able to touch. Her daughter had carved a place for herself in a very difficult world and filled Eileen’s heart with pride. Erza didn’t need to be her famous mother. She was in a class all her own – well, almost all her own. Unlike Erza, Eileen had never been fond of the pas de deux.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I'm doing this. I don't know where it's going. I'm sorry for being this way.

            The lights of the stage loved her daughter almost as much as they’d loved her when she was young. Young _er_ , as Anna would say.

            _“Are we old at thirty-nine?”_ she’d asked the night before, still glowing and wrapped in Eileen’s sinfully soft purple sheets. Was her lover right? Was she old at thirty-nine? She wanted to believe she wasn’t but her title of _Premier Ma_ _î_ _tre de ballet_ instead of _prima ballerina_ belied reality.

            Her daughter’s _fouettes_ weren’t as flawless as hers _still_ were but Erza’s strength hadn’t ever been her solo work. She reached for stars Eileen would never be able to touch. Her daughter had carved a place for herself in a very difficult world and filled Eileen’s heart with pride. Erza didn’t need to be her famous mother. She was in a class all her own – well, _almost_ all her own. Unlike Erza, Eileen had never been fond of the _pas de deux._

            The music swelled and then drifted into decrescendo. When Erza’s feet returned to the floor of the stage in a finale, she glanced up toward the balcony. Even though her daughter could not see her, Eileen stood with the rest of the theater in ovation. She applauded until her palms hurt. Erza’s breaths came fast and when she bowed, her partner took her hand a moment before it was necessary to lead her off stage. He always did that. Eileen would have to dig deep to recall a time when Anna’s son _hadn’t_ been taking her hand.

            Before the thick velvet curtains pulled shut Eileen blinked and remembered when their hands were smaller. Clumsier. Maybe Anna was right. Maybe they weren’t exactly _old_ now but she could definitely remember a time when she’d been _young._ Before she had her own troupe. Before she’d been an internationally recognized dancer and master of her craft. Before _all that_ she was just a young woman desperate to be out from under the thumb of a marriage she’d never wanted.

* * *

 

_Eighteen years previous…_

* * *

 

            The eyes of the manager raked over her body critically. His mouth twisted into something ugly and he sucked on his teeth when he pointed at her torso with the tip of his pen.

            “Explain that,” he commanded, leaning back in his noisy office chair. Eileen bristled but didn’t betray her personal pride.

            “It’s a scar,” she snapped. “What else?”

            “You got a kid or something?”

            Eileen sneered. Were all men really so stupid? She reached for the dress she’d left hanging over the back of the one chair opposite his desk and pulled it over her naked body.

            “Besides the fact that the scar is _obviously_ in the wrong spot to be childbirth related, I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

            “It’s all my business, Red,” he said with a shrug. Eileen seethed. She _hated_ that nickname. “You got a kid? I’ll find out eventually. Kids are problems.”

            “My personal life is left at the door –” Eileen’s eyes flit to the man’s dirty nameplate on the edge of his desk. She knew his name but it made her feel empowered to pretend she needed the reminder. “Mister Porla. I would never –”

            “They all say that,” he interrupted with a lazy drawl. “Girls with rug rats – _mothers –_ are all the same. They get in here for the interview, tell me it’s handled, and then before you know it the brat’s sick or home alone or _whatever._ ” Jose Porla, the self-important owner of Cheetah’s, grinned. Eileen half expected his mouth to be full of gold teeth. Something tacky like that would suit him perfectly. “For you, though, Red, I might be convinced. Kid or not, I can be swayed.”

            He pushed away from his desk and folded his arms behind his head. With a jut of his chin downward, Eileen knew what she’d need to do to earn employment at his club. Despite _everything_ inside of her absolutely salivating at the thought of ripping the man’s spine out right through his mouth, Eileen floundered. She needed work. Her stash of money was almost gone and within the space of a month she’d be out of house and home – not to mention she’d loose the _incredibly_ generous babysitter that made it possible for her to seek work at all.

            “Use it or lose it, Red,” Jose crashed through her indecision. “I’ve got a whole line of girls behind you who wouldn’t think twice.”

            Eileen snatched her coat and spun on her stilettos. She said nothing to the man currently cackling from behind his desk and stalked her way back down the dank hallway to the front doors. The tinting that had been shoddily affixed to the glass was scratched and pocked. Sunlight peeked through the imperfections but flooded the small club entirely when she yanked the door open.

            Once free of the club’s particular brand of sleaze, Eileen sucked in a lungful of winter air. Despite direct sunlight, the city was still covered in dirty snow. She loved Crocus. Returning had felt a lot like coming home but the illusion didn’t last. The city hadn’t changed but _she_ had. Eileen had a daughter now and couldn’t stomach the thought of paying Erza’s way through life with the kind of cash that flowed through Cheetah’s. _No._ She wasn’t there yet. She’d wait tables first. She’d rent a room for a day and take out a Backpage ad before putting her mouth anywhere near a dick like the one attached to Jose Porla.

            Eileen left Cheetah’s behind and decided to take the long way home. Of course, when a person didn’t have a car, _every_ way home was the long way home. Eileen’s toes were damn near frozen and she shivered in spite of her coat. She’d left home appropriately dressed but changed into interview specific attire in a public bathroom near the train station. Not that it would matter to anyone – she’d long suspected her babysitter was aware of her dwindling cash flow – but Eileen decided to change back into her other clothes before facing her two year old. She did have her pride, if nothing else.

            When the sun dipped behind the tall buildings, a dusting of snow began to fall from the sky. Eileen slowed her pace even though the cold bit at her bare legs. She stopped in front of a row of glass windows and saw a young woman staring back at her she barely recognized. When had her face ever been so gaunt and haggard? Her hair was damp with snow and her fingers clutched at a worn peacoat. Perhaps she should go back and beg Jose Porla for the opportunity to suck his dick and line his pockets with his cut of her tips. Maybe then she could –

            Movement beyond the glass caught her attention. A woman with spun gold hair glided across the floor before performing a nearly perfect _grand jete._ Eileen’s heart clenched. She missed ballet. She missed the _barre_ and the floors and her shoes and the feel of a room spinning around her. Her eyes slid shut and she couldn’t believe she’d actually thought pole dancing would ever be enough for her. It would break her heart.

            When Eileen opened her eyes again she found the blonde dancer was no longer alone. The woman swooped down to scoop a small boy up and into her arms with a smile. _Oh._ Was the child hers?

            A gust of freezing wind lifted the hem of Eileen’s dress and peacoat. She felt the chill in her bones. The door of the small dance studio suddenly swung open and crashed against the bench beside it. Eileen jumped and clutched at the flaps of her coat.

            “Hey!” the blonde woman called from the doorway. “Hey can you help me pull this closed? Please?”

            “Yeah, sure,” Eileen breathed. Her coat lacked proper buttons – the act of tearing them off had been a parting gift from her husband – but she clenched her jaw against the cold and helped the dancer pull the door shut. Once they were both inside, the woman slid a latch into place.

            “I’m so sorry to bother you,” she said with a sigh. “I always forget this door likes to blow open. I keep bugging my husband to fix it but –” The woman glanced around the studio with an awkward laugh. “This property isn’t exactly at the top of his priority list.”

            Eileen’s eyes scanned over the room. The studio was definitely old and in need of repairs but its homeliness poked at places in her heart she’d never thought she’d be free enough to care about again.

            “This is a lovely old studio,” she blurted. “Are you a dancer?”

            “Oh –” The other woman laughed and took a seat on one of the benches that lined the street facing windows. “Not really.” She began to pick at the binding of her shoes and slid them off her feet. “I mean, yeah. I guess if you want to call the _corps de ballet_ a real dancer.”

            “I’d call it real dancing,” Eileen said wistfully. The woman set aside her shoes and fished a package of crackers from her bag. She handed them the boy who smiled widely up at Eileen. “How old is your son?”

            “He’s almost three. I’m Anna, by the way.” She held a hand out to Eileen who took it briefly. “Are _you_ a dancer?”

            “I used to be,” Eileen said quietly, daring to eye herself in the mirrors mounted on the opposite wall. “I don’t know if that’s really a viable dream anymore.”

            “Why not?”

            “Well –” Eileen’s eyes fell to the little boy again. “I have a small daughter about your son’s age and I need to work more than I need to dance.”

            “The city troupe, Crocus Ballet, is having open auditions in a week. I’m on rotation in the _corps_ but I think it’s just because I’m a legacy. My mom was a _prima ballerina_. I’m nowhere near her level.”

            Eileen tried to snuff out the warmth growing in her chest. She didn’t need these false hopes. She needed a _job._

            “I don’t imagine the pay is enough for me to live on.” Eileen sighed. “And I haven’t danced at all in two years. It’s been at least three since I took it seriously.”

            “I admit the pay isn’t great but in the _corps_ you won’t be dancing all the time anyway. I bet we could get you another side gig, easy!” Anna’s sunny smile made Eileen think maybe the concept was plausible.

            “I don’t know…”

            “You said you have a daughter, right? She’s close to my boy in age?”

            “Yeah –” Eileen half wanted to back away and leave the studio. This Anna woman was a _lot_ to take in.

            “Bring her here tomorrow. They can distract each other and I’ll run you through the audition program.”

            “You’d do that?”

            “Sure.” Anna shrugged and stuffed her shoes into her bag. She held open a small coat for her son and helped guide his arms into the sleeves.

            “Why?”

            “Because I want to.” Eileen must’ve made a face because Anna laughed. “You seem nice and I don’t have any friends. I’d love the company and, well –” Anna pointed at Eileen’s feet. “Those stilettos give you away. You’ve got dancer’s feet. I can tell. I might not be as talented as my mother and sister but I’ve got a good eye.”

            Eileen glanced down at her feet. She was suddenly embarrassed at her state of appearance.

            “So you’ll come tomorrow, then?” Anna cut into her thoughts with another bright smile.

            “Uh, yeah. Yeah I can do that. I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

            “Great!”

            Eileen turned to go but stopped short of the door. “You never asked me for my name.”

            “I figured you’d tell me eventually.”

            “It’s Eileen.”

            Anna pulled on a much more appropriate winter coat and shouldered her bag. “Well, Eileen, I’ll see you and your girl here tomorrow morning, okay?”

            “Yeah.” Eileen managed a cautious smile. “We’ll be here.”

            The cold began its assault on her legs and feet as soon as she was back outside. Anna had locked the studio door behind her and shut out the lights as she and her son disappeared through an interior door. Eileen didn’t notice that she’d never changed out of her heels and into her regular clothes until she was home and felt the warmth of her daughter wrapping her arms around her legs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this feels slow. I have a very specific story I want to tell and a certain amount of set up is required.

            Calling off her babysitter for the day saved Eileen sixty dollars and even though she wasn’t making any real money yet, Anna had given her hope – something she’d almost forgotten the feeling of. Could she _really_ snag a position in the _corps de ballet_ and a side job so easily? Anna’s bright smile made her want to believe such a miracle was possible.

            A giggle from Erza drew her out of her musings. The little girl kicked at every clump of snow on the sidewalk and the toes of her pink boots were covered in slush. In the hand that wasn’t attached to Eileen’s she clutched a still steaming glazed donut. Probably not the best breakfast for a two and a half year old but they’d left the apartment at such an early hour, only the commuter shops were open.

            Anna hadn’t specified what time to show up at the old studio but Eileen’s anxiety and excitement couldn’t be contained. Her heart skipped a beat when she and Erza crossed the last short block and the row of windows she’d stopped in front of the day before came into view. From several storefronts down Eileen could see the studio was still dark and she felt a creeping disappointment. Maybe Anna hadn’t been serious or maybe they’d come too early? What if she was already too late and Anna had gone?

            Eileen stopped her fast paced march, along with her panicking, and crouched down in front of her daughter. Erza had a smear of sugar glaze on her cheek and Eileen smiled as she wiped it away with the last bit of napkin.

            “Did you have fun on our little walking adventure this morning?” Eileen asked, trying to work herself up to face the fact that she’d been foolish to trust a total stranger. “Should we head back?”

            Erza reached up to tug on a wisp of Eileen’s hair and smiled. “Pretty,” she said in the little voice that Eileen loved more than anything else in the world.

            “You’re pretty too, sweet girl.” She stood and straightened Erza’s knit cap. “Let’s –” Eileen’s eyes were drawn to the studio one last time and saw yellow light spilling out into the still-grey morning. _“Oh,”_ she whispered with the only breath in her lungs. The door swung open and Anna’s golden head popped out.

            “Oh good!” she called. “Come on, it’s cold!”

            Eileen gripped Erza’s hand and adjusted her shoulder bag before closing the last stretch of space between them and the studio. Anna held the door open and smiled when she latched it closed once everyone was inside.

            “I realized once you’d gone last night that we hadn’t set a time so I came early. My son is up at the crack of dawn every day anyway.”

            “We took the train,” Eileen offered awkwardly. “Sometimes things get crowded so I just…” she trailed off when Anna knelt in front of Erza, who clutched at Eileen’s leg. “She’s a little shy.”

            “Hi,” Anna said with the same bright smile Eileen associated with her already. “I’m Anna.”

            “I’m Erza,” the little girl said in a whisper.

            “I’ve got a little boy that’s just about your size. He’s in the office over there.” Anna pointed to a split Dutch door Eileen hadn’t seen the previous afternoon. The top half had a four-panel window and stood open against the wall. “If we leave the top door open do you think you might like to watch cartoons in there with him?” She leaned closer conspiratorially and whispered, “I think he gets lonely sometimes.”

            “Okay,” Erza said in a cautious voice.

            Anna offered a hand to Erza and Eileen trailed behind them toward the office. Inside the small room was an old desk that had been shoved all the way against the far wall. A television had been plugged into the outlet behind the desk and children’s cartoons danced on the small screen. In the center of the office was a shabby couch. Draped over the back of it was Anna’s little boy. He smiled at Eileen in the same bright way his mother smiled but when his eyes found Erza, they didn’t look away.

            “Hi!” he said rolling over the back of the couch and landing on the cushions. “Wanna watch my show with me?”

            Erza glanced back at Eileen and waited for a nod of approval. “Go on, love, we’ll be just out here, okay?”

            “Okay.” Erza inched away from Anna and touched the back of the couch. The boy watched her as she made her way around the furniture at her own pace. When she crawled up to join him he flopped back around and covered both their legs with a blanket.

            “I’m Jellal! Want some crackers?”

            Erza shook her head no and folded her hands in her lap over the blanket. The boy didn’t push her for her name; he just shrugged and turned his attention back to the television.

            Eileen backed out of the office and Anna pushed the bottom half of the door closed again.

            “Sorry it’s so cold in here,” Anna offered. She crossed the room and dug into one of the two bags on the row of benches. “The climate control system is ancient.”

            “I don’t mind,” Eileen said excitedly, taking a seat next to Anna. She pulled a worn pair of slippers from her bag and her fingers tingled. “I never thought I’d dance again. Now that I have this chance, I’m not going to let a little chill stop me.”

            Anna propped one foot on the bench and slid on her own shoes. “You sound determined. That’s good. Competition is fierce. Like I said before, I’m pretty sure my spot in the _corps_ is a pity placement.”

            “I doubt that,” Eileen said. “I saw your _grand jetes_ yesterday. With just a few tweaks to your form, they’d be perfect.”

            “You think so?”

            “I know so.” Eileen stood and Anna followed. “You’re really doing me a huge favor here, Anna, I don’t mind repaying in whatever way I can.”

            “Let’s run through the audition program and see where things go from there.”

            Eileen watched Anna execute a routine that was predictably basic but peppered with a handful of strategically placed, complex moves. She felt unused but familiar cogs in her mind begin to turn. After only two attempts she’d mastered the program. A thrill surged through her body and Eileen felt like she might burst.

            “You’re really good,” Anna said wistfully. “Where did you say you trained before?”

            “Here in Crocus mostly. My parents sent me south for two years when I was sixteen to study at the –”

            _“Ballet de Midi?”_ Anna breathed. “You must have important parents. My mom was one of the best and even she couldn’t get my sister in there.”

            “Uh, well –” Eileen flushed and tried to laugh off Anna’s sharp deduction skills. “My mother is a lesser Dashkova. She pulled some strings and got me a spot.”

            “Wow. That’s really something.” Anna’s face broke into a wide grin. “You’re _definitely_ getting into the troupe here in Crocus and you probably don’t need my help at all to do it.” Her cheeks turned pink. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re the more appropriate tutor between the two of us.”

            “I could help you, if you want; if it’s not an imposition. I’m not much of a teacher, though.” She grimaced. “I’m told I have a bit of a temper and I’m impatient.”

            “I’m probably hopeless,” Anna said with a dismissive wave. “To be quite honest, my technique is serviceable at best. I’m a much better teacher. I keep thinking one day I’ll fix up this shabby old studio and make it mine.”

            “Why can’t you?”

            “Oh,” Anna sighed and fell onto the bench. “It would be a lot of work and I’d hate to bug my husband with it all. He’s a busy man.”

            “Better a busy husband than a deadbeat like mine was.”

            “That’s true,” Anna said with a forced grin. “I suppose I have no room to complain.”

            “Oh, no!” Eileen blurted, touching Anna’s arm. “I didn’t mean to shut you down. I’m just a bitter old maid.”

            “Old?” Anna asked with a laugh, reaching up to touch a stray wisp of Eileen’s crimson hair. “You can’t be more than, what, twenty-three?”

            “Twenty-one.”

            “So we have young marriage and young motherhood in common, then. We’re the same age,” Anna said softly. “It’s harder to let go of some things more than others, I think.”

            “Yeah,” Eileen whispered.

            “Maybe I sound crazy but I’m glad the studio door blew open the other day.”

            “You don’t sound crazy. I’m glad to have nuked a job interview, took this route home on a whim, and wallowed in my self-pity in front of your windows.”

            “You nuked an interview?” Anna asked with a quirked eyebrow.

            “Yeah.” Eileen sucked in a breath and decided to just be honest. “My work experience includes waiting tables and dance. I thought maybe pole dancing at a club and serving cocktails would be an even mix.” Anna’s eyes were wide. “I was gravely mistaken.”

            “Forgive me, Eileen, but you don’t seem to have the temperament to deal with drunken, grabby men.”

            “I don’t,” Eileen said with an uplifting laugh. “But if I’d taken the job that troll offered me, I’d never have met you. So maybe it all worked out for the best?”

            “I’d say so.” Anna’s smile was a thing Eileen had already decided she loved. She’d never been a person to appreciate close quarters or intimacy. Her mother had been a cold woman and her father, absent. Erza was her first experience in pure love. Anna’s closeness bothered her less than maybe it should have. “We should check on the kids. Jellal gets hungry at the drop of a hat.”

            “Erza is a champion napper. I’m sure she’s asleep.”

            “You’re lucky on that front. My son doesn’t know the meaning of downtime.” Anna pulled her hair free of its bun and a curtain of golden hair fell down her back. Eileen half wanted to touch it to find out if the gentle waves were as soft as they looked.

            The television still played children’s programming at a low volume but Erza and Jellal had melted into a solid lump of arms, legs, and blanket. Anna laughed softly and began to pull the blanket away and the children apart.

            “I think she’s a good influence,” Anna said, folding the blanket into a square. “Jellal hadn’t sat still long enough for a nap in months.”

            “Maybe he’ll rub some of that outgoing personality off on her. I worry how she’ll do in school with her bashful nature.”

            “It’s a good enough excuse to spend time together seeing as how you don’t actually need me to teach you anything,” Anna said with a wink. Eileen _almost_ blushed.

* * *

 

            Eileen’s new job at the teahouse a block from Crocus Ballet wasn’t amazing but the elderly owner was sympathetic to her plight – both as an aspiring dancer and a single mother. Anna favored the black tea with shortbread and when they’d seen a help wanted sign, Eileen applied immediately. She didn’t think the owner even glanced at her application but when she walked out with a job, she decided it didn’t matter.

            The two-day wait between her audition and the morning when names would be posted on the back doors of the studio building were excruciating. Eileen ducked out of the teashop just after a breakfast rush and all but sprinted down the long block and around the corner. The crowd of potential dancers had mostly cleared out but a small group remained. Her palms clammed and the skin of her neck prickled with a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the season. She could see nothing but the printed list taped to the doors. Before the list of names came into focus, a hand closed around her bicep. Eileen spun around to find Anna smiling brilliantly.

            “I’ve been calling the teashop for ten minutes!” She said in an excited breath. “I should’ve just come here!” Eileen’s words were all caught in her throat and she was still speechless when Anna pulled her into an embrace.

            “Did I get in?” Eileen breathed into Anna’s ear.

            “Of course you did, are you crazy?” Anna laughed and gripped her arms. “I told you!”

            “I just –” Eileen felt tears pressing against her eyes. She didn’t want to cry in public. One hot tear rolled free, though, and Anna caught it with her finger.

            “You were the stand out, Eileen. I had absolutely no doubts!” Anna pulled her into another hug and Eileen was grateful for the tears that soaked into the collar of her friend’s coat instead of streaking her face. “You’re amazing,” she whispered.

            “Thank you,” Eileen breathed. “I owe you –”

            “Nothing,” Anna said firmly. “You don’t owe me a thing.” She smiled again and pulled back to brush away any remnants of Eileen’s tears. “Come out tonight. You and Erza should have dinner with us.”

            “Us?”

            “I’ll bring Jellal and they can be kids and you can unwind. I think you need it.”

            “I could maybe use a small drink.” Eileen glanced back over her shoulder at the posted list. Just to make sure the day was _real._ Sure enough, her name was printed in thick, black ink. _Eileen Belserion._ She read it three times before turning back to Anna. “I should head back to the teashop.”

            “Of course. I’ll call you this evening.”

            “Anna –”

            Anna pressed her hand over Eileen’s mouth. “Don’t you dare thank me! You got in all on your own. Now go before the old lady remembers you’re gone.”

           Eileen smiled. She took the walk back at a fast pace but still slower than when she’d been heading in the other direction. Her entire body felt _light._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three, take two!
> 
> I hate being that fussy fic author who posts and deletes but I really messed up. I don't know why I even posted it when I knew I hated it. Shame me, I deserve it. I hope this one makes more sense! Thank you for your patience!

            “But what if I don’t like it?” Erza asked, touching the edge of her new school uniform skirt. The pale yellow button-up shirt had a cross embroidered on the right breast along with the name of a saint Eileen knew she wouldn’t recognize. She hadn’t been raised religious and until now Erza hadn’t been exposed to organized religion. However, the Catholic school had better ratings than the local public school and the tuition wouldn’t break her bank.

            “I promise it’ll be fine. You’re just jittery because tomorrow’s your big day!”

            “Are you sure I can’t stay in pre-school for another year? Churches makes me nervous.”

            Eileen sighed and moved Erza’s uniform to the overstuffed armchair in the corner of her bedroom. When she took a seat on the edge of the bed, Erza closed her eyes as she brushed familiar scarlet hair back away from her daughter’s face.

            “A church can’t hurt you, love.”

            “What if they want me to pray? I don’t know how to do that.”

            “If praying is a thing you feel like you want to do, I’m sure the sisters will help you.” Eileen leaned down and smiled. “It’s kind of their job.”

            Erza twisted her fingers in the hem of her nightgown and Eileen prepared for the question she knew was coming.

            “Can’t I go to school with Jellal?”

            Eileen continued to run her fingers through Erza’s damp hair and said nothing for a long moment.

            “Sweetheart, Jellal lives in another part of town. And that means –”

            “It means he goes to a school for rich kids and we’re not rich?”

            “Where did you hear something like that?”

            “I heard one of the ladies at your ballet studio talking about Anna and she said they’re rich and that’s why Anna doesn’t work and Jellal gets to –”

            “Erza, listen to me,” Eileen said with a gentle firmness. “Gossip is ugly, the money you make doesn’t decide how much you’re worth.”

            “How much money would we need for me to go to Jellal’s school?”

            “Probably a small mountain,” Eileen whispered, turning to press a kiss to Erza’s forehead. “Ready for bed? You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

            “Maybe it’s too big, mom.”

            “Erza, you’ll shine no matter what. You’re smart and kind and everyone will love you.”

            “You sound like Jellal.”

            “Well, maybe that means he’s a smart boy.”

            Erza wrinkled her nose. “He talks too much.”

            “I’m pretty sure he’d cut it out if you asked.”

            “Mom?”

            “What is it, love?”

            “I’m proud of you.” She smiled and threw her arms around Eileen’s neck. “I’m glad you’re my mom.”

            “Oh, sweetheart,” Eileen whispered. “I’m proud of you, too.”

* * *

 

            Eileen tried not to rush through her closing procedures at the teashop but couldn’t help herself. After three years, though, she could afford to give into the rush and rely on muscle memory. Besides perhaps its aging owner, nobody knew the ins and outs of the teashop better than Eileen.

            Now that she was one of Crocus Ballet’s principal dancers, she preferred the late shift. Once Erza was safely at school, her mornings were spent in the troupe’s second floor practice room where she worked with a choreographer. In the afternoons she practiced with her peers, and then three nights a week she closed the teashop. Her income from dancing would have covered her bills and childcare but the small cushion was nice – a thing she hadn’t ever had the luxury of until recently. A small part of her had grown to worry about the elderly woman who owned the shop, too. Eileen didn’t feel entirely comfortable just… _leaving._

            She could hear her phone ringing from her bag even as she flipped off the last of the lights. She recognized the ringtone as Anna’s and didn’t hurriedly fumble for the phone like she might’ve if it were Erza’s sitter.

            “Hey,” Eileen said with a sigh as she set the phone to speaker and pulled off the sneakers she kept for work in favor of the rain boots.

            “How’d it go?”

            “Good, I assume.” Eileen shoved her arms into her coat and pulled the hood over her head. “I told Erza I’d be home on the seven o’clock train.”

            “I’m sure she has a million things to tell you about her first day of school.”

            “I’ve been worried about it all day.”

            “She’ll be fine. When I picked up Jellal he was nothing but morose and told me he was hungry.” Anna’s laugh drew a smile from Eileen.

            “He takes after you, I think. All that snacking.”

            “I can’t help it if I have a high metabolism,” Anna said defensively.

            “We should all be so lucky,” Eileen murmured eyeing the last tray of scones that would be sent to the food bank down the street in the morning. She decided against the snack and finally locked the shop’s back door. The rain was not much more than a sprinkle but the thunder promised a proper storm. “I’m sick of all this rain.”

            “What if I told you that I could cheer you up?”

            “I’d ask if you had a weather machine.” Eileen held her phone up to her ear and began the short walk to the train station at a brisk pace.

            “Even better. In two weeks the Stella ambassador will be visiting Crocus on official business.”

            “Okay…” Eileen trailed off and glanced up at the sky again as the raindrops began to fall thicker and heavier.

            “He and his wife, and the Minister of Foreign Policy have secured tickets to opening night of _Don Quixote.”_

            Eileen stopped on the sidewalk and nearly caused a pileup of pedestrians. _“What?”_ she gasped. “Are you sure?”

            “Absolutely sure.”

            “Uh –” Eileen glanced around in embarrassment and started walking again. “How do you know this?”

            “I heard from the receptionist. She said a courier from the government house came over today and picket up a bundle of tickets reserved for the ambassador, his wife, and the Minister’s family.”

            Eileen’s words were stuck in her throat. She performed for locals and visiting officials all the time but the Stella ambassador was a known connoisseur of the performing arts and his wife, though long retired, was a _prima ballerina_ in her day and held a lot of sway in ballet circles around the world. The opportunity to dance in front of her –

            “Eileen?” Anna’s voice cut through the chaos of her thoughts.

            “Yeah, I’m here.”

            “I hope I didn’t freak you out. You have no reason to be nervous.”

            “I think I’m going to be nervous anyway,” Eileen said with a small laugh. The train station was crowded, loud, and Eileen felt the press of commuters all around her. “Hey, Anna, let’s talk about this tonight, okay?”

            “I’ll call you when Jellal’s in bed.”

            “Right.” Eileen slid her phone into her pocket and navigated through the crowd. A loud boom of thunder from outside drowned out the voices just as she stepped onto the train. She didn’t allow herself to fully absorb what Anna had said to her until she sank down onto a seat. The train doors slid closed and jerked into movement. Eileen’s thoughts rattled and rolled over one another seemingly in time with the train’s wheels over the tracks.

            _Don Quixote_ was a very old piece and one of Eileen’s favorites. She’d long fantasized of making the famous _Kitri Variation_ with the fan her own. The sequence was difficult and required a presence of mind Eileen respected. An already complex ballet paired with an audience who would be able to pick out even the smallest flaw was more than enough to shake her confidence.

            The rain pelted the street when Eileen stepped out of the train station five blocks from her apartment building. She hid her bag and hands inside her raincoat and began the trek home. Sometimes she thought it might be prudent to move closer to the station or even purchase a car for herself but the thought of spending that much money, however necessary or helpful, made her stomach swim with nausea. Eileen had to very often remind herself of what she could afford now but still hated spending the money. She took comfort in the dollar amount she’d squirreled away since the pay raise that came with the title of _principal dancer._

            One block away from home, Eileen wrapped all her apprehension up in a box. She didn’t want to spoil Erza’s excitement over her first day of school with personal things. Erza was an anxious little girl and needed her full attention or she’d _know_ something was amiss. Their apartment building was old but stubbornly clung to its pride. Ivy crawled over the iron gate that surrounded the property, giving it a breath of youth, but the gate itself squealed with age and rust. If ever she did decide to move, Eileen would miss the red brick and flower boxes that outshone the building’s flaws in the spring.

            The moment Eileen opened the door to her apartment Erza squealed. Still in her uniform, she dashed across the floor of the living room and tugged on Eileen’s raincoat.

            “You’re home!” Erza exclaimed, barely acknowledging her sitter gathering her bag and inching past them both to the door. Once the door was shut and they were alone, Eileen focused entirely on her daughter.

            “Tell me all about your day!” She guided them both to the couch. Erza crawled almost directly over her and gave her a run down of everything to do with kindergarten. The commentary didn’t stop until her mouth fell open into a wide yawn.

            “Sorry, mom,” she muttered, curling into Eileen’s side. “I’ve been saving all that just for you and now I’m out of gas.”

            Eileen laughed. “Don’t apologize, love, I _always_ love to hear about your day. Did you get to call Jellal earlier like you wanted?”

            “Yeah.” Erza smiled up at her. “He said he nearly starved to death because snack time wasn’t until late. I felt fine all day and I guess that means his school isn’t so great, huh?”

            “I suppose if you’re rating schools on the availability of snacks then you win this round. Did you eat already?”

            “Yeah.” She yawned again. “I couldn’t wait.”

            “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let’s get you into the bath and then bed.”

* * *

 

            Eileen couldn’t stop fidgeting. She fussed with the lace of her bodice and the tulle of her skirt. She’d checked everything twice and flexed her feet once again. The opening night of _Don Quixote_ had sold out well in advance and even though she’d performed in front of a packed house many times, she still felt nerves. The vase of stargazer lilies on her vanity had a card attached but Eileen didn’t need to check it to know they were from Anna. By the end of the night there’d be many others but these were always delivered in advance.

            The sounds of the orchestra warming up reached Eileen’s ears and she met her own eyes in the mirror. Tonight she’d be weighed and judged by one of the very best and she couldn’t afford to slip even a little. Not to mention the smaller, more private audience back stage. Anna hadn’t auditioned for _Don Quixote_ at all and had arranged for Erza and Jellal to watch opening night from the wings. Sometimes Eileen wondered how much longer Anna would tolerate the rigors of professional ballet before she finally walked away from it.

            A quick knock on her door sent Eileen’s heart racing.

            “Two minutes!” the stage manager shouted. Eileen inspected herself in the mirror one last time before nodding.

            “Show time,” she whispered before opening the door of her dressing room and joining the chaos in the hallway.

* * *

 

            The sound of applause was deafening. Eileen couldn’t see beyond the stage lights but she knew that somewhere among the folds of velvet curtains her daughter’s eyes were watching from the wings.

            Later she would revisit the evening in detail but in the moment, everything was a whirl. She rushed off the stage and then returned for a bow. Bouquets of flowers were passed around and Eileen felt like she’d never catch her breath.

            When she finally returned to her dressing room a bouquet of roses so deeply red they were nearly black took up an entire armchair. She didn’t have time to inspect the card because Anna and the children burst through the door. Erza finally got to touch the layers of red and black tulle and lace of Eileen’s costume and Jellal regaled her with his review of the intricate rope system that controlled the curtains. From the corner of her eye she spotted Anna leaning over the roses. Her grin was both smug and sly.

            “You’ve got an admirer in Lady Martínez,” Anna said smoothly.

            “Who’s that?” Erza asked, pulling away from Eileen to brush her fingertips over the rose petals.

            “Lady Martínez is the ambassador of Stella’s wife,” Anna explained, tucking the card back into the bouquet. “She used to be a dancer herself.”

            “Is she as good as my mom?”

            “Not a chance!” Anna said with a laugh. “Nobody’s as good as your mom.”

            “Alright, that’s enough flattery,” Eileen said, itching at the flat plane of her hair that had been sprayed within an inch of its life. “Why don’t you guys go on and I’ll meet you by the backdoors after I change?”

            “Come on, kids,” Anna said with a wave at Eileen. “Let’s go grab some cake and call the driver.”

            Once they’d gone, Eileen shed her costume and left it on a hanger. She rinsed her hair in the deep sink in her washroom and changed into something soft and warm. The blood red roses carried an intoxicating scent and Eileen couldn’t help her deep inhale. They smelled like success. Like _victory._ Before leaving the dressing room she grabbed the vase of stargazer lilies and left the smaller bouquets for the cleaning crew.

* * *

 

            On impulse, Eileen took Anna up on her offer of a nightcap. She let go of the prospect of sending Erza to school the next day and at nearly midnight left her daughter and Jellal to their Disney movies on the futon bottom of his bunk bed.

            Anna and her husband lived in a townhouse on the wealthier side of uptown. Not counting the converted basement, the Fernandes home was easily five times the size of Eileen’s apartment. Several years prior, when Eileen first visited, she hadn’t failed to notice that Anna did not share a bedroom with her husband. Since then she’d learned a few key facts about Anna’s marriage – the most important being that it had been born of legal necessity. She didn’t know every dirty little detail but she understood that Anna’s own father and her father in law were both incredibly greedy men who had no problems trapping their children in an arranged marriage at eighteen.

            After quietly pulling Jellal’s bedroom door shut, Eileen joined Anna in the sitting room outside her actual bedroom. Anna pressed a lowball glass of bourbon into Eileen’s hand and grinned. She held up her glass for a toast.

            “To _you,”_ she said loftily. “To the best _Kitri_ there has ever been in the history of _Don Quixote.”_

            “You’re too kind.” Eileen downed the bourbon and fell into a chair. Her feet _ached._

            “No, I’m not. You were great. _Too_ great for the Crocus Ballet.” Anna refilled her own bourbon glass and took a seat next to Eileen. “You should’ve seen Erza’s face during your solo. Her eyes were wide as pies. She said you looked like an angel. Your _fouettes_ were flawless.”

            “I wonder if she would’ve had a better time in a box. Backstage is so –”

            “Are you kidding?” Anna scoffed. “She _worships_ you. Watching from the wings was so exciting for her.” She sighed dreamily and leaned into Eileen’s shoulder. “She reminds me of you. There’s something in her eye when she watches you dance. She wants it.”

            “I hope she knows she doesn’t need to dance to impress me.”

            Anna looped her arm though Eileen’s. “She knows.”

            “Your house is so quiet compared to mine. I’ve got a new neighbor below me and he’s got a thing for reggae in the early morning.”

            “Acnologia is gone until Christmas,” Anna said quietly. “Not that he’s a noisemaker when he’s here.”

            “Do you ever get lonely here now that Jellal is in school all day?”

            “Sometimes. I used to get lonely when he was a baby, too.” She laughed once and then fell silent for a long moment. “I took a few lovers. Did I ever tell you that?”

            “You didn’t.” The admission tightened a vice around Eileen’s heart. She didn’t like being confronted with the fact that Anna was married. Until her husband came up in conversation she could always pretend there might possibly, even if only in her wildest dreams, be something more between them. Eileen always felt a little on the edge with Anna. Like at any moment their friendship could suddenly take a hard left and turn into something… _else_. Their closeness pushed a boundary Eileen hadn’t ever crossed before. It both excited and terrified her.

            Anna sighed again. “They were women. I’ve never been very partial to men and only ever went to my husband’s bed once. Our parents are religious.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Consummation and all that.”

            “So you got pregnant after only one go?” Eileen couldn’t help her curiosity.

            “No,” Anna said with a laugh. “Jellal is the product of IVF and a _lot_ of money. Acnologia wanted a child to shut his dad up and neither of us were very interesting in facilitating that… organically. He’s a good father, though, and becoming a mother has made me feel happier than I ever thought I’d be in this life.”

            “I’ve only ever been with the one man.” Eileen blurted. It seemed to be a night of impulse. “When I came back from the _Ballet de Midi_ I was restless stupid and hooked up with the guy who delivered the flowers after shows. He was older than me, and a total waste of time. Eighteen year old me had bad priorities.”

            “I think most men fall into that category,” Anna said softly, curling a strand of Eileen’s hair around one finger.

            “I didn’t make him wear a condom and I got pregnant. My parents freaked out and made me marry him even though he had absolutely nothing to offer.” Eileen’s eyes fixated on the tray of crystal glasses and decanters across the room but she didn’t see them. “He… wasn’t a good man. We left Crocus and I stayed with him for three years before packing my bags and leaving with Erza.”

            “I’m sorry,” Anna whispered, releasing her hair and sliding her hand into Eileen’s. “I’m sorry parents are shitty. Your husband didn’t deserve you _or_ Erza.”

            “I haven’t spoken to my parents since the day I got married. They told me I was a disgrace and ruined my own career. I know they’re here in the city and I’m sure my mother, being my mother, knows what I do now.”

            “You’re better than her,” Anna insisted firmly.

            “Thank you for being my friend,” Eileen murmured.

            “Eileen –” Anna glanced up at her quickly. “I hope you realize that I consider you the best friend I’ve ever had in my life – and I haven’t had many, to be honest. You _shine_ in a way I never will. If you ever feel like –”

            “Don’t do that,” Eileen whispered. “You _do_ shine, Anna. Besides my daughter, there isn’t anyone else in this world I care _more_ about.” She sucked in a deep breath and suddenly stood. Anna followed and pried the glass from her hand.

            “What is it?”

            Eileen’s heart raced and her skin tingled. She was perched on the razor thin edge of friendship and _more_ than friendship. Was it worth the risk? Was there a risk at all?

            “Sometimes I think of you,” she whispered in a rush. “And it’s got nothing to do with ballet or the kids or any of that.” Eileen shook her head. “I’m not _great_ at this. I don’t have lovers and I don’t _know_ how to –” Anna’s fingers brushed the apple of her cheek and Eileen’s words fizzled.

            “I think of you too.” Anna inched closer and her breath fanned over Eileen’s cheek. The scent of bourbon was more intoxicating than the blood red roses sent by Lady Martínez. “Is it horrible that I’m glad to be your first?”

            “Kiss me,” Eileen breathed just before Anna’s lips pressed against hers.

            Kissing a woman wasn’t at all like kissing a man. Anna’s lips were soft, pliant, and sweet. And _patient._ She tasted of the bourbon and peach lip balm. Her hands slid over Eileen’s shoulders and neck until her palms settled over her cheeks. When she pulled away Eileen thought she’d never breathe again.

            “You know where the guest room is,” Anna said in a voice so low she almost missed it. “But maybe you could stay with me instead?”

            Eileen tilted her head to the side and kissed Anna again. It was a new and electrifying thing she didn’t think she’d ever tire of.

            “Take me to bed,” she said with a sigh against Anna’s lips.


	4. Chapter 4

            Eileen folded her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. One floor below and beyond the observation glass her daughter was struggling to the point of near tears. The determination on her face set Eileen’s nerves on end – not because she wished Erza to be a better ballet dancer but because the instructor seemed to be utterly inept at speaking her learning language.

            “There’s a whole slew of early dance academies that would jump to take Erza on,” Anna said quietly from the bench behind her.

            “She likes this place. I don’t want her to think it’s her fault the class isn’t good for her.” The instructor signaled for a break and Eileen sighed. Erza moved to a corner of the room and slumped against the wall. It broke her heart to see her little girl so downhearted.

            “I don’t think it’s a lack of skill,” Anna leaned over her knees and mused with a critical expression Eileen recognized. “She knows the technique. She just she lacks self-confidence. Maybe…”

            Anna trailed off when the door to the classroom opened and Jellal slipped in with along with a student instructor that couldn’t have been more than nineteen. The student instructor moved to the _barre_ but Jellal pursued Erza in the corner. He pulled a phone from his pocket and Erza peered at the face of it with an intense expression. When Jellal set aside the phone Erza eyed him skeptically but he pointed to his own chest with a confidence that drew a laugh from Anna.

            “He’s trying to convince her of something. It’s cute.”

            Eileen’s eyes narrowed when Jellal stood and pulled Erza to her feet. The student instructor knelt in front of them both and gesticulated with his hands a series of movements Eileen recognized. _Of course._ She felt ridiculous for not suggesting the concept herself. On one hand she wanted Erza to find her own confidence within herself but she also didn’t see any harm in what was happening. Erza was a needy child in a way Eileen had never been. So what if she needed a partner to lean on?

            Jellal grabbed his phone and handed it off to the student instructor. There was a lot of pointing and hand movements but Erza finally nodded and he walked both children through a very simple choreography. Erza seemed to feed off of Jellal’s confidence and she spun around in a series of nearly perfect _piqu_ _é_ turns. He barely touched her waist at all but Eileen thought it was more of a presence than a touch that closed the gap.

            Anna stood and leaned into Eileen’s side. Their fingers linked together briefly before Anna sighed.

            “I think Erza is going to excel in the _pas de deux_ one day,” she said softly. “I’ve never seen her that steady even on the _barre.”_

            “It’s not the _barre,”_ Eileen whispered. “It’s the boy.”

            Erza and Jellal ran through the short routine twice more before she turned her eyes up toward the glass with a smile.

* * *

 

            “When do you think I can start pointe work?” Erza asked casually from across the dinner table.

            “Probably not until you’re closer to thirteen,” Eileen hedged. “Is that a thing you want?”

            “Of course!”

            “Erza, you don’t have to do any of this if it’s not what _you_ want.” Eileen watched as she picked at her food. She never liked to interrupt Erza’s thought process. It was a thing her mother often did to her before her independent streak reared its head, and she wouldn’t do that to Erza.

            “Is this because of today?” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to cry in class.”

            “I just worry you push yourself too much. At eight years old a lot of kids –”

            “I can’t be the best if I don’t push.” Erza’s face hardened into something determined that warmed Eileen’s heart over. “I want to do partner dance. I want to work with Jellal.”

            “I saw your _piqu_ _é_ _s_. They were very polished.”

            “I think maybe I don’t like dancing alone.”

            “Does Jellal understand this commitment? Does he know how badly you want this?”

            “Yeah.”

            Eileen leaned back in her chair and poked at the pool of sauce still on her plate with a fork. She didn’t know why she bothered to ask if Jellal understood. In a lot of ways she thought Jellal understood commitment more than Erza. He wore his heart, however young and inexperienced, on his sleeve.

            “There’s a competition in August,” Eileen began slowly. “You and Jellal will be nine and not restricted to the little ones. Do you think the two of you –”

            _“Yes!”_ Erza breathed. “I know we can!”

            “I think with the right choreography and practice hours we could get you both into the mid-range level.” Eileen suddenly stood and reached for Erza’s empty plate. “I’ll discuss it with Anna but –”

            Before Eileen could finish her sentence Erza’s chair fell over backwards. She’d vaulted herself out of it and took off for her bedroom. The excited squealing a moment later meant she’d already made a phone call. Eileen still wasn’t completely sure about the competition circuit – her own mother deemed them to be beneath her talent – but Erza needed to find her own place. The first time Erza slid her little feet into a pair of ballet slippers Eileen decided to _never_ be like her mother.

* * *

 

            “It looks like the minimum requirement for the Juniors category is five hours of practice each week,” Eileen muttered, her eyes scanning the wall of text in the most _unreadable_ color and font she’d ever seen. The dance competition’s website irritated her.

            “Erza and Jellal sometimes crack seven,” Anna said from the couch behind her.

            “Mm.” Eileen scrolled down further. “Their program can’t exceed two minutes and fifteen seconds. That’s… very short.”

            “It’s pretty standard, I think. They’re used to longer programs but I think something more condensed is well within their skillset.”

            Eileen sighed. “The problem will be securing a choreographer to work with them exclusively during the summer months. It’s nearly April already. There isn’t much time.”

            “I could do it,” Anna offered lightly. “It’s not a big deal.”

            “That’s a lot of work, Anna. Where will you find the time? You’re already at the very least amount of hours Crocus Ballet requires.”

            “Yeah,” Anna drawled. “About that. I’m quitting.” She paused and the ice in her cocktail glass tinkled as she laughed. _“Retiring_ is a better word, I guess.”

            “What?” Eileen said, spinning around in Anna’s desk chair. “Why?” The question slipped out but she already knew the answer.

            “Because I’m tired of the rigidity. I love dance but I don’t like all the rules. No staying up all night, no booze,” Anna ticked off her reasons and held up her fingers. Eileen laughed and left the chair behind to join Anna on the couch.

            “No junk food?”

            “Well, that too.” Anna’s smile was brilliant even if slightly drunken. “You know I like my fried potatoes.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to Eileen’s in a quick kiss. “Will you still love me when I gain ten pounds right away?”

            “I think,” Eileen began, plucking Anna’s glass out of her hand and setting it aside. “I’ll love you _more_ when you’re not so grouchy for a snack all the time.” She leaned in and Anna twisted to stretch out across the couch so Eileen could perch above her. “What will you do instead of ballet?”

            “There’s a business course at the city college I’ve got my eye on.”

            Eileen quirked an eyebrow. “Business?”

            “It’s only a two year degree but I think it’ll be helpful when I finally do something with that old studio downtown.” Anna curled a strand of Eileen’s hair around her finger. “What do you think?”

            “I think you can do anything you set your mind to do. Were you serious about the chorography for the kids?”

            “I am. I can bow out of the troupe next Monday. Tomorrow, even. I don’t care about it anymore. I want something that’s _mine.”_

            “You deserve it, Anna,” Eileen whispered.

            “I’ll make sure Erza and Jellal are ready come August.”

            Eileen watched her hair slip in and out of Anna’s grasp. Her mind drifted back to her conversation with Erza about partnerships and commitment. Even now the two of them were working as a pair – if only playing a video game in his bedroom.

            “Sometimes I wonder if Erza is the best partner for him,” she whispered.

            “Do you really think he’d work with another partner?” Anna asked with a slow smile. “The day Erza moves on to something else is the day he loses interest. Are you afraid of her leaning too heavily on him?” She paused and adjusted on the cushions to better see Eileen’s face. “And I don’t mean just in dance.”

            “I’m just thinking ahead. They’re so close it sometimes worries me. What if –”

            “What if she doesn’t love him the same way he loves her?” Anna whispered.

            “It’ll come up one day. Erza isn’t great with nuance or subtlety.”

            “She’s eight, my love. They’re still babies.”

            “You’re right,” Eileen said, smiling. “Of course you’re right. I’m over thinking.”

            “You’re her mother.” Anna’s thumb brushed over the apple of Eileen’s cheek. “If they grow up and hurt one another, it won’t be our mess to clean up. These are lessons they will need to learn on their own. Jellal is an intuitive boy. I think he would internalize anything he doesn’t think is reciprocated – even to his own detriment.”

            “Is that healthy?”

            “Maybe not. But love and friendship are priorities he needs to work out on his own. That’s part of growing up.”

            Eileen smiled and relaxed against Anna’s body. She hid her face in the curve of her neck and enjoyed the tug of Anna’s fingers through her hair.

            “I think you’re better at this than me.” She sighed and slid her arm across Anna’s waist. “I never learned these things growing up. Only ballet.”

            “I don’t know, I think you’re doing okay now. And as far as friends to lovers goes, I wouldn’t say you’re inept at that either.”

            “That’s good to know,” Eileen murmured, pressing her lips to Anna’s throat.

* * *

 

            In hindsight, Eileen realized she’d been holding her cards too close to her chest. She had nothing to say when Anna walked out of the Crocus Ballet studio for the last time as a dancer. She watched with interest as Anna choreographed a two-minute dance that complimented Erza and Jellal both, and coached them through it over and over until they were perfect. And she uncharacteristically paced the length of the hotel dressing room while a professional stylist applied Erza’s makeup and made sure Jellal’s clothes fit properly. At the end of the day when names were called and places were announced, Eileen felt a dam break in her chest – and she cried.

            Erza and Jellal were ecstatic with their win and filled the car ride home with nothing but excited chatter. Anna reached over and took Eileen’s hand once they’d succumbed to exhaustion.

            “What a day, huh?” Anna asked quietly. Eileen smiled at her briefly before returning her hand to the steering wheel of Anna’s car.

            “Are you surprised they scored so highly?”

            “Not at all. They worked hard and it showed.” Anna sighed and her eyes drifted beyond the windows and into the night. “Did you see the way Erza was watching those acro dancers, though?”

            “I didn’t.” Eileen glanced over at her. “Are you excited about classes next month?”

            “Yeah,” Anna said, coming back to herself. “I am.”

            “Did your husband say anything about the change?”

            “Not really. He listened to me when I gave him the run down and just said _‘You’ll excel at whatever you do, Anna.’_ and then went back to his office.”

            “Well, he’s right. You _will_ excel.”

            “It’ll be nice to be amazing at something for once,” Anna said with a sigh. “I’m tired of my sister and mother’s shadows. Layla is touring this winter, did I tell you that?”

            “You didn’t. But, Anna, you _are_ amazing at plenty of things.”

            “Sometimes I wonder if they’re the right things.”

            Eileen frowned. “You _aren’t_ Layla or your mother. You’re _Anna_ and your life is your own. You made a huge decision for _yourself_ and walked away from professional dance to go back to school! That’s a big deal!”

            Anna rolled her head to face Eileen in the driver’s seat. “Is it _really_ going back to school if I never went to college to begin with?”

            “Call it what you want. That won’t take away from your accomplishments.”

            “Sometimes I wonder if it was some kind of divine intervention that blew the old studio door open six years ago.” Anna sighed and Eileen could feel her fatigue. They’d be back in the city in less than an hour but the day seemed to keep stretching. “You’ve made my life so much _better.”_

            “I don’t want to think about how my life was on a fast track to nowhere before I met you,” Eileen whispered. Her eyes flit over to Anna who’d fallen asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

            Rain pelted the glass of Erza’s bedroom window and she sighed. As much as she loved the rain, she was anxious and the weather felt like a cage. The whole day had been one big drag and she couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why.

            Part of it was the flower box under her window that had flooded over; ruining the fresh soil she’d added herself the previous weekend. Another frustration was the long slump between programs – Erza and Jellal had a regular schedule of competitions plus the shows their dance academy hosted. The previous winter they’d actually been asked to perform in the Crocus Ballet’s adaptation of _The Nutcracker._ Erza still felt a thrill of excitement whenever she recalled the opening night.

            She also supposed the new boy at school played a role in her foul mood. Simon was overly nice to her and suffocating in a way she both understood and did not. He _liked_ her according to Mirajane Strauss – a self-proclaimed expert on the motives and minds of boys. On one hand she enjoyed the _idea_ of a boy liking her but on the other, Simon made it hard to breathe.

            The rain sluiced over the windowpanes and muddled the whole world. Clouds hung low and grey, and the street lamps looked like fuzzy balls of yellow. Erza’s mind strayed back to Simon and the concept of romance. She didn’t think she cared for the way he hovered. Instead, she thought she preferred the kind of love her mother shared with Anna, something constant and comforting. Something that felt natural but at the same time thrilling. Erza’s head rolled to the side and her fingers strayed into the points of blue just visible over the edge of the bed. She wondered what Jellal thought of things like romance and love. Did he think of them at all?

            Her thoughts were derailed when Jellal turned around suddenly and folded his arms on the surface of her bed.

            “I heard my parents talking last night.”

            “About what?” she asked absently.

            “My dad’s going away this summer. I don’t think he’s ever been gone for so long before.” He sighed and picked at the quilting pattern of her blanket. “The house will be so quiet.”

            Erza’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. The spark of unease poisoning her day, flared. She’d been putting the conversation off for days but now it couldn’t be avoided.

            “I’m going away this summer, too,” Erza whispered. Jellal’s wide green eyes met hers and she could _feel_ the disappointment in them. “I meant to tell you. I’m sorry.”

            “Why are you sorry?”

            “Because you’ll be lonely and now your dad is leaving, too.”

            Jellal shrugged but it was slow, and jerky. She thought it was forced.

            “I’ll be alright, Erza, you don’t have to feel bad.” He climbed up and into her bed to stretch out beside her. “Where are you guys going?”

            “It’s just me,” Erza said with a sigh. “I want to go to a gymnastics camp. They’ll teach me how to jump and flip and stuff like that.” Her skin tingled with excitement despite her morose mood. “I really can’t wait.”

            “That sounds great! When you come home you’ll know all kinds of new stuff!”

            Erza suddenly sat up. An idea was percolating in her mind and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. “Maybe you should come too,” she blurted.

            “To gymnastics camp?”

            “Yeah, I mean, unless you have other plans…” she trailed off and glanced back at him over her shoulder. He was still on his back with his arms folded behind his head. Finally, he grinned at her.

            “I don’t have plans.”

            “Your mom might have plans.”

            “She does but they mostly have to do with that old ballet studio she’s got downtown. Her desk at home is covered in paint swatches and flooring samples.”

            Erza settled back against the pillows and Jellal rolled over on his side to face her.

            “Do you think she’ll mind if you come with me?”

            “Probably not. I’ll ask.”

            “I really am sorry for not telling you. We’re a team, Jellal.”

            “We are.” He reached over to touch the tuft of her braid that draped over her shoulder. “But you don’t have to be sorry. Even if the camp is full, I’m not upset.”

            “I don’t think I could stand it if you were mad at me,” she murmured.

            “Erza, it would take a lot for me to get _really_ mad at you. You’d have to… I don’t know…”

            “Shave off my hair?” she said jokingly.

            “I think that would just make me sad.” He smiled again and tucked his hands under the pillows. Thunder rolled in the distance and the sound of raindrops hitting the window surged. “This rain is making me sleepy.”

            “You can take a nap if you want.” Erza’s eyes flit to the clock on the table over Jellal’s shoulder. “Your mom won’t be here for another two hours.”

            Jellal yawned. “She always says I never used to take naps until she became friends with your mom.”

            “Sorry I make you so tired.” Erza sat up and crawled to the end of the bed and tugged the shade down over the window. The only light left in her room was the soft glow from the table lamp. “I guess I made us both tired this time.”

            “I finished my homework, it’s fine.”

            Jellal drifted away before her and she watched his chest expand and collapse. The rain drowned out the sounds of his breathing.

* * *

 

            Anna slid into the driver’s seat of her car and her lips spread into a wicked grin. Eileen clicked her seatbelt into place and flipped her sunglasses down from the top of her head.

            “Well?” she asked, heaving a deep breath.

            “No kids for three weeks!” Anna twisted the key in the ignition and switched the air conditioner on. “What do you say to a little day drinking?”

            “You’re such a lush.” Eileen laughed.

            “Oh, come on,” Anna insisted. “Live a little. You aren’t even performing for another month _and_ you took a week off at the teashop. Let’s get buzzed at that new _tapas_ café around the corner from your building and then walk back.”

            “It’s been ages since I’ve had carbs and a real margarita.” Eileen sighed and pointed an air vent at her face. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

 

            Anna chose a table on the patio and Eileen decided the afternoon sun loved the pile of golden hair on her head – and, apparently, their exposed cheeks. Their table lacked an umbrella and Eileen could feel the tightening of her skin with sunburn. Anna did a little more than get a buzz. She polished off a bottle of white moscato on her own but Eileen limited herself to three margaritas.

            With a stomach full of _tapas_ and tequila mixer, Eileen pulled Anna away from the café. They took the half-block walk home hand in hand. The sun was setting and Anna’s eyes were still wide. Her gait was sloppy and her laugh, loose. Eileen couldn’t ever remember feeling so unencumbered – despite not being completely drunk herself.

            Anna said nothing once they entered the apartment building and didn’t release Eileen’s hand until the door clicked shut behind them. She spun around the living room and fell into the couch.

            “Come sit by me,” Anna said, patting the cushion next to her. Eileen kicked off her sandals and obeyed. Anna sighed deeply. “Do you ever feel like you’re right on the edge of something big?”

            “That’s a heavy question for a day like this,” Eileen said with a light laugh.

            “I’m gonna tell Acnologia I want him to sign the studio downtown over to me.” Anna plucked a strand of Eileen’s hair from her shoulder and twisted it between her fingers. “The remodel will take ages but I want this.”

            “You _deserve_ this, Anna,” Eileen whispered. “You’ve done everything you said you were going to do. You quit the troupe, you went back to school, and you _graduated._ I have no doubt you’ll follow through on the rest of it.”

            “I’m always worrying,” she said, sighing before suddenly laughing. “Sorry I’m just drunk.”

            “Do you think he’ll tell you no?” Eileen pressed. “About the building, I mean?”

            “No. But he won’t offer it. I’ll need to ask. The deed is in his name.” Anna’s body grew heavier against her side as the sunlight crept across the floor into twilight shadow. “I don’t think he ever considers things I might want. Not stuff like this. He knows I’ll bring it up or just do it myself.”

            “I’m sorry, Anna.”

            “Don’t be. He just isn’t wired for marriage.” Anna smiled at her and leaned in for a kiss. “I don’t want to talk about my husband,” she whispered. “Should we go to the bedroom?”

            “Are you kidding?” Eileen asked, pulling her own shirt over her head and then Anna’s. “We’re on vacation. I think a proper fuck on the couch is called for.”

            Anna laughed and Eileen thought it the smoothest sound she’d ever heard. It paired nicely with the smooth skin beneath her palms.

* * *

 

            Anna tapped her fingernails against the top of the steering wheel. Acnologia’s car still sat in the garage but she knew he’d be gone by the end of the day – and would remain so until late August. If she wanted to have the ballet studio discussion, she’d need to have it _now._ Eileen had kissed her goodbye that morning with a promise to meet her for dinner later. Anna had then driven herself home with sweaty palms and a clenched jaw.

            It wasn’t that she thought her husband would deny her. Or even that he’d give her a hard time. She just didn’t like acknowledging how they were chained to one another in the eyes of every legal entity in existence regardless of how either one of them felt about it. Their wedding day had been large, expensive, and traditional – just like their families. At the end of the day her father had shaken the hand of her new husband’s father in mutual congratulations on a deal well struck. Anna and Acnologia had awkwardly consummated their marriage and then proceeded to live as separate lives as possible while still maintaining a single household – Jellal being the only real emotional tie between them.

            With a heavy breath, Anna finally stepped from her car. The house was mostly silent. She left her bag and keys in her private office and sought out her husband. As predictable as ever, she found him in the sitting room outside his bedroom. Acnologia stood just as tall and stoic as he did the day she’d married him. His profile revealed a smoking cigar but it didn’t look as if he’d taken many puffs off it. Anna knocked softly on the doorframe and he glanced back at her over his shoulder.

            “I apologize for the smoke,” he said softly. “I know you hate it.”

            “I don’t hate it,” Anna countered, shrugging. Though she was still jittery with nerves, she invited herself into the small sitting room.

            “Truly?” Acnologia’s speech was heavily accented and Anna could admit that she’d been romanced by it when they were first introduced. She might’ve loved him in another life where they weren’t exactly themselves. “Had I known you did not hate it, I would not have been so careful to smoke only out of doors all these years.”

            “Well, at the very least, the real estate agent who manages this house one day will be grateful. I hear cigar smoke is horrible for walls.”

            He laughed in a low baritone and clipped the end of the cigar. “You are in a humorous mood. I like it.”

            “I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh in a long time, Acnologia,” Anna said quietly, perching on the edge of a loveseat.

            “I’ve become far more expressionless than I ever intended.” He took a seat in a chair across from her. “I assume Jellal made it on the bus yesterday?”

            “He did.”

            “Good.”

            “He said you took him to the pier on Saturday.”

            Acnologia sighed. “I regret such a lengthy trip but it cannot be helped. He is still so young and I miss too much.”

            “He doesn’t resent you for it,” Anna whispered. “He’s ten and old enough to know you love him.”

            “Perhaps –” His mouth softened into something wistful. “Perhaps Jellal is the best part of me. He is lively and passionate about the things he loves. Or maybe that’s what he gets from you?”

            “Jellal is steadfast and understands commitment. That’s all from you, Acnologia.”

            “How is your paramour? I see her name on the posters downtown.”

            Anna flushed. “She’s worked hard for the recognition. She has the discipline and heart for ballet.” Her fingers twisted over one another and she blew out a breath. “I know it’s not my business but have you found a lover? There are parts of you worth loving.”

            “It is kind of you to say so, Anna, but I do not know that love – romance – is a thing I will ever have in this life. You… were always mismatched with me in that regard. I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be. We haven’t suffered and our son is perfect.” Anna suddenly sat up straight. “I need to ask something of you.”

            “Anything.”

            “That old ballet studio downtown, the one below all those empty offices…” she trailed off and rallied herself. “I want it.”

            Acnologia raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

            “I want to renovate it and run it. I want my own dance academy or maybe my own troupe.” Anna shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know yet but –”

            “I wil have my assistant draw up the papers for you this week. If you need an assistant of your own to handle the minutiae for you, that can be arranged, as well. The whole building is yours.”

            Anna felt her eyes well with unshed tears. “Really?”

            “Of course. The tax is paid by the trust.” Acnologia suddenly stood, crossed the room, and disappeared into his office.

            Anna swiped at the tears on her cheeks and tried to swallow her excitement. The _whole building!_ She’d only been after the first floor but now the possibilities were unlimited. When Acnologia returned he clutched a legal sized envelope. He cleared his throat and handed it to her.

            “What’s this?” Anna asked, confused. She picked at the folded brad and pulled papers from the envelope. Acnologia sat on the low table in front of the loveseat.

            “When my father passed away two years ago I secured a highly specialized attorney,” he began with an uncomfortable frown. “I do not want to bore you with details, and I intended to save this for our… anniversary but –” Acnologia gestured at the papers. “Now seems like a good time.”

            Anna’s eyes swept over the pages and she blinked rapidly. “These… these are divorce papers.”

            “They are.”

            “But, I thought –”

            “Our fathers are long dead, Anna,” he whispered. “The trust was drafted at peak arrogance. I cannot guess at how it was overlooked but they failed to provide certain stipulations after their deaths. I have done my best to untangle the trust and the holdings and the businesses and –” He shook his head and sighed. “Well, the crux of the matter is that you can be free of this marriage.”

            “What does this mean?”

            “In legal terms it means you can do whatever you wish. If you wanted to live elsewhere or marry another, you’re free to do that.” He cleared his throat and covered his knees with his hands. “If you wanted to stay here, I would not stop you. As far as I am concerned, this is a home that belongs to us both, and Jellal.”

            “This is a lot to take in,” Anna breathed. “I never thought –”

            “I wish for your happiness, Anna. Our son is… intuitive. I do not think he will suffer if we divorce and I am glad he can look to you for an example of what love should be.”

            “You’re a good father, Acnologia. Don’t ever think –”

            “I was not speaking of paternal love, Anna.” Acnologia glanced at his wristwatch and stood. “I have a plane to catch.”

            “Right. Of course.”

            “The divorce paper haven’t been filed yet,” he said, pulling a suit jacket on over his pale, lavender button up shirt. “I wanted you to have time to consider what you want. I will not fight you on anything. You have my assistant’s contact point for the studio, and you have my personal number for… well… _this.”_

            For the first time in more years than Anna could count he leaned in and brushed her cheek with a kiss.

            “Thank you,” she whispered as he left her behind in his sitting room. Anna’s eyes slid from his open door to the closed window. It wasn’t until the phone in her pocket started vibrating and didn’t stop that she realized the sun had set.


	6. Chapter 6

            “Erza!” Mirajane called from the other end of the hallway and startled her out of her thoughts. “Erza, wait up!”

            Erza shut her locker and composed herself before spinning around. Mirajane’s books were crushed against her chest as she rushed to catch up.

            “Wow,” Mirajane said, half out of breath. “I was afraid I’d miss you.”

            “Sorry. I’m in a hurry today.” Erza’s lips curled into a smirk. “I know you told me why you stopped bringing your backpack to school but I’ll never understand it.”

            “Not all of us met their future husband when they were still in diapers, Erza.” Mirajane laughed and bit her lip. “When boys, _gentlemen,_ think you need them to carry something, they’ll line up to do it.”

            Mirajane’s interest in male attention wasn’t a new thing at all but her methods were becoming more and more flagrant. Over the last summer, she’d started wearing the kinds of bras that made Erza flush with embarrassment – the same lacy variety she knew her mother kept in a separate drawer from the underthings she wore to work and to the ballet studio.

            “If you say so but Jellal _isn’t_ my boyfriend or my husband.” Erza glanced over her shoulder and through the glass exit doors. “I really do need to get to the bus stop, though.”

            “Let me guess. Important dance stuff?” Mirajane laughed when Erza opened her mouth awkwardly to reply. “I’m teasing, Erza. I just wanted to give you this!” Mirajane offered her a pastel blue envelope with curly silver lettering scrawled on the front. “My birthday party is in two weeks and even though _you_ never need a paper invite, I wanted you to have one anyway.”

            “Ah,” Erza said with a grin. “I’d never forget your birthday, Mira.”

            “I’d never let that happen even if it did slip your mind for a second.” Mirajane’s smile was a mile wide. “And, listen, you can bring Jellal if you want. I don’t mind.”

            “Yeah? I don’t know if he’ll be able to but –”

            “Oh, just ask him, Erza. He’ll come if you ask.”

            “Probably.”

            “I’ll tell everyone you’re bringing a date and then you’ll be off the hook.”

            “What hook?”

            “You know the one,” Mirajane said with a sigh. “He’s had a thing for you since the fourth grade and grew about six inches this summer.”

            “Oh,” Erza whispered. _“That_ hook.”

            “Even if Jellal doesn’t come, I’ll make sure you have a fabulous time and Simon won’t bug you.”

            “Thanks, Mira.”

            “Alright.” Mirajane fluffed her hair with one hand and adjusted her books. “It’s time for me to dig up a boy to carry my stuff home for me.”

            “What are you going to do when you have too many books for one set of arms?” Erza asked jokingly.

            “I’ll just have to snag _two_ boys then.” Mirajane tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned back in the other direction. “I’ll see you, Erza.”

            Erza slid the blue envelope between the pages of one of her textbooks in her backpack, pushed through the doors, and sprinted to the bus stop. Once she was safely on the bus, she focused on the rest of the day. This particular afternoon would be very important for both her _and_ Jellal. All the hint dropping and casual mentions of how much she desperately wanted to leave traditional ballet behind in favor of something more acrobatic was about to come to a head. Anna would be an easy sell, but Eileen might be skeptical.

            Her view of the passing city wasn’t hindered by splattering raindrops until just before the bus squealed to a slow halt one block down from the dance academy. Erza stepped off the bus and felt the rain kiss her face with a light sheen of moisture. She thought maybe she should pull the raincoat from her bag but decided getting a little wet wasn’t too bad. When she rounded the corner, Jellal’s shoes came into view first. Though he went to a more exclusive school, he regularly flouted the dress code with sneakers instead of the more traditional black oxfords. He always said his feet were the most tired part of his body and deserved better than uncomfortable dress shoes all day. The rain fell just beyond his toes and the sidewalk was now a whole shade darker.

            Erza had never regretted not protecting herself from the rain _more_ than when she heard a familiar, and somewhat snide, feminine laugh from the top of the academy’s concrete stairs. Jenny Realite sneered from where she leaned against the covered portion of the handrails. Her hair was in a perfectly braided bun and the pair of pointe shoes looped over her shoulder were the expensive variety that most dangers their age reserved for performances. _Jenny_ wore these for practice. Erza could roll her eyes for days at the gross show of pretense but chose to let it go. Her desire to leave the ballet class and focus on acrobatics instead had nothing to do with Jenny but the fact that she wasn’t in _any_ of the acro classes certainly added a cherry to Erza’s cake.

            “Honestly, Erza, you should really invest in an umbrella,” she said in a voice dripping with disdain. “I don’t know what I’d do if I had to rely on the city bus system. My father’s driver will take me anywhere I want to go.” Jenny clucked her tongue once. “Jellal, help her out would you? She looks like a drowned cat.”

            “Erza hates umbrellas,” Jellal said with a grin. It was true. She didn’t like having to hold on to extra things. Jellal uncrossed his feet and stood. “You ready for today?”

            “Yeah, I think so.” His confidence bolstered hers.

            “You think?”

            Erza smiled and Jenny faded into the background. “Yeah, okay. I’m ready.”

            “Good.” Jellal offered her a hand and Erza took it easily. He led her past Jenny without so much as a sideways glance. “Sorry about her,” he murmured once they were inside the building. “I didn’t ask her to wait with me.”

            “It’s fine, Jellal. I’m pretty used to your entourage by now,” Erza said loftily.

            “My entourage?”

            “Your fan club of wannabe ballerinas. They’re going to hate me for dragging you into acro.”

            “Who cares? Jenny’s a snob.” He shrugged. “She’s not even very good. There’s no way she’d ever make it into a professional troupe like you and your mom.”

            “I’m not a professional yet, Jellal, and don’t discount your own stock.”

            “You _know_ why my mom stayed for so long and it had nothing to do with drive or ambition.”

            “Fair enough,” Erza murmured.

            The topic of their mothers wasn’t one they usually dissected. Jellal was of the opinion that it wasn’t their business and Erza only wished for her mother’s happiness. After his parents quiet divorce, Jellal’s shoulders lost some of their stiffness when he spoke of his father and life at home.

            At thirteen, Erza still didn’t quite understand all the many forms of love. She loved her mother the same as Jellal loved his parents. She knew Anna and Eileen shared another type of love. And then there was the love Jellal’s parents had that was wholly different and something she thought was more along the lines of _respect._ Jellal existed in a completely separate box in Erza’s mind – one she opened often but always put away for another day. _That_ box felt risky and scared her a little.

            Jellal pulled the stairwell door open and when they reached the landing halfway between the first and second floors, he stopped.

            “What is it?” Erza asked with a raised eyebrow.

            “We’re partners, right?” He asked softly.

            “Of course.” Erza’s head tilted to the side.

            “Erza –” Jellal pursed his lips and his eyes fell to his shoes. “Erza, you know you don’t need me, don’t you? You could be just as good as your mom on your own. I don’t want you to feel like you _need_ to keep me as a partner if that’s not what you want anymore.”

            “I’m not my mother,” Erza whispered. “I don’t want to be her. I want to be me and _I_ need a partner. Are you saying you want to quit? Because –”

            “No, I don’t want to quit. I don’t know what I’d do with my time if I weren’t here with you. It’s fun and challenging but I’m never going to be a soloist, Erza. That’s what I’m saying. Do you understand?”

            Erza frowned. She understood his words but the way he said them made her feel like she was missing something. A door opened up on the third floor with a metal clang and a group of young dancers came barreling down. The noise they made was deafening. Once they’d passed, so had Jellal’s mood. He smiled and Erza pushed his question out of her mind.

* * *

 

            The rink was as loud as only a public rink could be. Eileen watched Erza cling to Jellal’s side as he coaxed her further out onto the ice. For all her grace as a dancer, Erza couldn’t stay upright on her rented skates.

            “What do you think?” Anna asked from beside her. Eileen sucked in a deep breath and glanced over.

            “I think very soon it won’t matter what I think. They’re old enough to make these choices with minimal input from us.”

            Anna breathed a laugh and turned away from the ice to face the row of cafes behind them. “I have to admit, Erza’s confidence today was visibly more stable than during _any_ of her ballet routines. Acro suits her.”

            “And Jellal?”

            Anna shrugged. “He’s going to do whatever Erza wants. He’s a fast learner and will pick up his own slack.”

            “That doesn’t bother you at all?”

            “Does what bother me?” Anna asked distractedly. Eileen smiled to herself. Anna had eventually gained her ten pounds of promised fluff but leveled out. Now that she’d worked her way over the hump of school and the never ending drama of building renovations, Anna was no longer stress eating. Not that Eileen cared either way. After eight years she still found her lover to be just as exciting and beautiful as ever.

            “The fact that your son follows my daughter around without any hesitancy. Does that bother you?”

            “Not really. He’d quit if he was unhappy and I think Erza would know if he wanted out. They don’t take advantage of each other,” she added in a quiet voice.

            “No, they don’t,” Eileen agreed. “I do worry, though.”

            “You’re always worrying,” Anna said with a soft laugh. “I save my worrying for when I’m sloppy and drunk.”

            “He’s in love with her. It’s painfully obvious.”

            “So?”

            “Erza is…”

            “Not sure?”

            “Unaware.”

            “Maybe.” Anna shrugged and leaned around the shrubbery planter to throw away her paper coffee cup. “But that’s not really a thing we should be interfering in.”

            Eileen turned to find Anna’s eyes searching her face. She smiled and Eileen felt a familiar basket of butterflies take flight in her chest. Anna reached into the small distance between them and squeezed her fingers reassuringly.

            “Love is a tricky thing. They’ll figure it out one way or another.” Anna suddenly grinned. “I’m starving.”

            “Of course you are.” Eileen didn’t let go of Anna’s hand until they had to pick a table and sit.

* * *

 

            “You’re too stiff,” the instructor clipped. He met Erza’s eyes and pursed his lips. “You can’t do that when you go into the lift. This isn’t just Jellal holding dead weight, Erza. You have to be more fluid than that or he’ll drop you and it won’t be all his fault.”

            “I’m sorry,” Erza whispered. “I’ll try harder.”

            “Let’s break for a bit, yeah?” He nodded and spun on his heel. Once the door closed behind him, Erza sighed. She hadn’t felt so insecure since before Jellal talked her into a partnership.

            “What is it?” Jellal asked, with his hands on his hips. “We’ve done lifts almost just like this a million times. You’ve never been so rigid.”

            “I don’t know.” Erza felt like crying. “I just feel so out of place. Maybe acro was a bad idea –”

            “It wasn’t a bad idea,” Jellal insisted. “You’ve been fine for two weeks. _Today_ you’re stiff. Did something happen at school last week? What’s going on with you?”

            Erza chewed her lip and wished her hair wasn’t coiled in a bun. She needed to fidget.

            “Erza?”

            “Jenny found me in the dressing rooms this morning.”

            Jellal’s face crumpled into a frown. Erza sighed and grabbed his arm. She pulled him to the row of chairs on the opposite wall and took his hand into her lap.

            “Don’t get mad, okay? Jenny is how she is. It won’t change just because you’re mad.”

            “She shouldn’t even be talking to you. What’s her problem anyway?”

            “She likes you,” Erza blurted. “You really can’t tell?”

            “I just don’t care,” Jellal said with a shrug. “She’s just as mean at school as she is here.” He finally exhaled his frustration and pressed his palm against Erza’s. “What did she say to you?”

            “She made a comment about my mom’s age. Apparently she’s _‘past her prime’_ or something, I don’t know.”

            “She’s thirty-two! Jenny’s mom is ancient anyway!”

            “I don’t even care about that. I just really can’t stand Jenny and I don’t like that she knows she can upset me.” Erza paused and decided to just spill everything. “She said I look like a floppy elephant when we practice and I’ll crush you.”

            “… _What?”_ Jellal blinked and shook his head. “She said you… _what?”_

            “It’s really stupid and I shouldn’t have said anything.” Erza tried to walk away but Jellal wouldn’t release her hand.

            “Hey, don’t walk off! Erza, please, sit back down.” Jellal inched closer and held her hand close. “Listen to me, okay? Jenny… well, she is what she is. We can’t change that. You said it yourself.” He paused and exhaled heavily. “Is this about her having a thing for me? Because honestly, Erza, she’s said lots of dumb stuff to you and it’s never bugged you like this before.”

            “I know I can’t keep you, Jellal,” Erza whispered. “I know you don’t belong to me and one day you’ll look at another girl and that’s…” She sucked in a deep breath. “That’s fine, I guess. But I can’t stand the thought of you liking someone as shallow and awful as Jenny.”

           Jellal’s face twisted in a way she didn’t recognize. It hurt her heart in a place she hadn’t put a name to yet. He recovered quickly and smiled.

            “I’m not into Jenny. Do you want me to promise?”

            “You don’t have to promise me anything. It’s just been a crappy day. I’ll try to be less stiff.”

            The door to the room swung open and the instructor clapped his hands.

            “Alright, let’s try this again. Erza, I want you to consciously carry your own weight. You were stiff as a corpse before.”

            Jellal pulled her to her feet and Erza put the whole conversation at the back of her mind. She’d think about Jellal’s expression later. Always later.


	7. Chapter 7

            Eileen eyed her breakfast with disdain. She wanted pancakes. Or a muffin. Or really anything that wasn’t a thick mess of protein powder slop trying to masquerade itself as a _‘smoothie.’_ At some point after her thirty-fifth birthday, she’d lost her taste for certain sacrifices made in the name of ballet. Eileen loved the prestige that came along with her position as _prima ballerina_ but she was also tired. Her arches hurt and her calves ached. She didn’t like the natural conclusion to all these complaints but knew the inevitable was on the horizon.

            “Hey, mom,” Erza said quietly, padding into the kitchen.

            Eileen watched her daughter dip into the refrigerator for her own breakfast and wondered how time had managed to pass so quickly. It felt like only a few moments had gone by since Erza last smiled up at her with donut icing on her face while reaching for her hair with sticky fingers. Now Erza was sixteen with her own brand of grace and poise.

            “Mom?” Erza smiled awkwardly and waved. “You’re staring. What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing,” Eileen murmured. She grasped the tumbler full of her breakfast and choked it down. Erza pulled a face. “Now _you’re_ staring.”

            “How can you drink that?” Erza asked, pulling the foil top off a cup of yogurt.

            “I guess I’m used to it.” Eileen rinsed the cup and set it on the rack. “What are your plans for today?”

            “Jellal is taking his driving test in a little bit and then we’re spending the afternoon at the pier. There’s a regatta this weekend and you know how he is about boats.”

            “So is he taking you to the pier or making you come with him so he has someone to listen to his excited babbling?” Eileen asked with a grin.

            “He’s not _making_ me,” Erza muttered. “If _I_ didn’t go… never mind. It doesn’t matter. He went with me to that weird series of plays in the park last winter so I don’t mind listening to him go on about boats.”

            Eileen watched Erza scrape at the sides of her yogurt cup. She knew it wasn’t really any of her business but she couldn’t help her curiosity.

            “That girl with the short hair has been making her way up the third floor of the academy quite a lot lately. What’s her name again?”

            Erza’s jaw flexed and Eileen’s mouth tried to twitch into a smirk but she held it off.

            “Yukino,” Erza said in an almost whisper.

            “Is she interested in acro, too?”

            “No.”

            “I see.”

            Erza tossed her yogurt cup into the garbage and fidgeted with her spoon. “I think she likes Jellal.”

            “Well he’s a very likable boy.”

            “Yeah.”

            “I’m sorry, love, I don’t mean to pry.”

            “It’s okay. I’m just being moody.” Erza turned to leave the kitchen and dress for the day but stopped at the door. “I’m helping out with the pre-ballet class tonight. Jellal said he’d wait and drive me home.”

            “Okay. I’ll be with a choreographer until late afternoon and then I’m joining Anna for dinner. Please call if you need anything.”

            “Alright.”

            Erza disappeared around the corner and Eileen’s fingers tapped restlessly against the countertop. She knew she needed to let Erza learn her own lessons in life and love but sometimes she wondered if a moment of blunt honesty wouldn’t serve her more than pent up angst.

* * *

 

            The front door of Anna’s studio was propped open with a brick. Once Eileen stepped inside, she realized _why._ The entire first floor reeked of paint primer. Her sandals made very little noise as she crossed the newly laid flooring to the office. Eileen leaned over the latched bottom half of the door and found Anna scowling at several paint samples.

            “Hey,” Eileen chirped. “You look like you could use a break.”

            Anna glanced up at her and tossed the paint samples in her hand in with the others on the desk.

            “I _really_ could.” She sighed and crossed the office to drape her arms across the door half and over Eileen’s shoulders. “I know I promised dinner but these painters are taking forever.”

            “Let’s do delivery then. I couldn’t bring myself to wear real clothes today anyway.”

            Anna peeked over the door and laughed at Eileen’s flip-flops and leggings. She kissed her quickly and reached for the doorknob.

            “I’ve got a drawer full of menus. Please, come into my office,” Anna said with a grin.

            “Remember when the kids were so little they’d nap on the couch and get cracker crumbs everywhere?” Eileen said, sighing and relaxing against the cushions that were still soft after many years of use.

            “Jellal still leaves cracker crumbs in the kitchen,” Anna muttered, pulling the menus from a desk drawer. She took a seat next to Eileen and handed over the stack. “I’m starving and would eat anything. You pick what you want.”

            “I think you passed your eating habits onto your son.”

            Anna snorted. “I’m going to deny that until the day you catch me leaving crumbs in bed.”

            “How’d his driving test go, by the way?”

            “Good. He goes a little faster than I’d like _as his mother_ but he passed with high marks.”

            “Erza said he’s driving her around today.”

            “I’m so glad she’ll go to those insufferable regattas with him now. Whenever his dad is out of town that used to fall on me.” Anna’s hand shot out and she grabbed one of the menus. “This. Let’s order from here.”

            “You said I get to pick!”

            “You’re taking too long.” Anna pressed a kiss to Eileen’s cheek. “Besides you like Indian.”

            “It’s just so much rice.” Eileen bit her lip and decided she _wanted_ the rice. “I’m thirty-five,” she whispered.

            “What?”

            “I’m thirty-five and I want carbs, Anna.” Eileen set aside all the menus even though Anna’s eyes followed them with longing. “I’m going to have to retire from Crocus Ballet soon.”

            “Who said that?” Anna scowled. “You’re still in demand, Eileen! Just last summer you toured overseas! All to amazing reviews, by the way. Did someone say something to you?”

            “No,” Eileen whispered. “I just know it’s coming. And I’m…” She sighed. “I’m both dreading it and looking forward to it. I feel old.”

            “Thirty-five _isn’t_ old,” Anna insisted. “This is your prime!”

            “Not for a ballet dancer. I’m well past my prime.”

            “Ballet is a thing you _do_. It’s not who you _are.”_

            Eileen felt overcome with unexpected emotion. She slid her feet out of her sandals and brought them up against her chest.

            “I don’t know what else I can do with my life. I’ve done exactly two things. Ballet and food service. The teashop is gone and it’s not like I can fall back on that.” Her throat felt tight. “I feel like I’m back where I was when –”

            “Help me run this studio,” Anna blurted. Eileen blinked and her mouth fell open to reply but she only gaped. “We can do it together.”

            “I don’t know anything about business, though.”

            “Sure you do! You practically ran that teashop before the old lady died. You know about accounts and vendors and all that. Plus, Eileen, you’re an absolute master at your craft. Do you know how many people in this city alone would pay an arm and a leg for you to tutor their child?”

            Eileen made a face similar to the one Erza made that morning. “Nobody wants a retired old hag to –”

            “Eileen, I swear to god, if you call yourself old one more time in front of me I’m going to smack you. And anyway, what do you think retired dancers _do?_ They teach. I know you said before it wasn’t your forte, but you’ll figure it out.”

            “I don’t know…”

            Anna reached over and tucked a wisp of crimson hair behind one ear and smiled. “You remember that day you walked in here? I do. This is our full circle. Come work with me. I _want_ you here.”

            Eileen folded her legs beneath her and leaned into Anna. “Are you sure you can put up with me all day?”

            “I’ve already tamed the tiger,” Anna said with a grin. “I think I can handle having her around all day.”

            “Why am I the tiger? You’re the one with ravenous belly.”

            “Because the men are always afraid of you.”

            “Good.” Eileen kissed her and brushed her tongue against Anna’s bottom lip. Her fingers inched beneath the hem of Anna’s tank top but the rumbling of her stomach brought everything to a halt. Anna grinned.

            “Okay so maybe I’m also a hungry tiger.”

            Eileen laughed and pulled out her phone. “Alright, alright. I suppose it’s about that time.”

            Anna stole one last kiss and whispered against Eileen’s lips, “Don’t forget the rice.”

* * *

 

            A drop of sweat rolled down the back of Erza’s neck. She wanted to remove her jacket – and would’ve under any other circumstance – but thought her camisole too revealing. Instead she pushed her jacket sleeves up and crouched in front of Kagura Mikazuchi.

            “I think you’ll get it if you practice this week at home just a little more.”

            The girl scowled. “I hate it.”

            “Your dad won’t let you do fencing until you do at least one show here,” Erza whispered. “I’ll make sure you have a super easy part in the summer program, okay? Then you can forget about ballet slippers and worry about swords.”

            Kagura chewed on her cheek and glanced up at the observation glass nervously. “You promise?”

            “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

            “Okay.” Kagura smiled for once and shuffled her feet. “Thanks, Erza.”

            “You’re welcome. Why don’t you go ahead and get your stuff. I think we’re done for the night.”

            Kagura dashed off and Erza was left to awkwardly slink toward the exit. She could feel his eyes through the glass and hated every second of it. The sooner Kagura was out of ballet, the better.

            Erza stuffed her belongings into her bag and peeked out between the dressing room doors. She scowled. Jellal wasn’t anywhere she could immediately see. This meant she’d need to venture out into the hallway alone and risk running into Simon.

            _“Fuck,”_ she whispered. Erza sucked in a deep breath and pushed open the door. The hallway was empty. She let the breath loose and took the walk to the lobby at a casual pace. Just before she reached the last corner, the stairwell door swung open and Simon strode out. He grinned at her and Erza felt the cold sweat from before return. She froze.

            “Hey, Erza,” he said slowly. “You looked great in class tonight.”

            “Uh, it’s not really a thing I dress for,” she murmured, trying to contemplate how many steps away from the lobby she was.

            “You still looked amazing. I mean, you always do. The kids love you.”

            “Yeah…”

            “Hey listen, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to come out with me later? Maybe I could drop off my sister and we could meet somewhere?”

            “It’s kind of late for that isn’t it?” Erza protested weakly. Her palms felt clammy and she couldn’t breathe without tasting Simon’s strong cologne.

            “Come on, it’s summer! I got my license last month; I could pick you up and bring you home. It’s not a big deal.”

            “Well –” The sound of soft feminine laughter came from around the corner and Erza’s head snapped toward it. She pursed her lips and felt a slow anger rise in the back of her throat. Jellal wasn’t waiting for her because Yukino had distracted him.

            “Erza?” Simon touched her shoulder and Erza jumped back. “What about that date?”

            “I don’t think so, Simon,” she blurted. “I need to get home. Sorry.” Erza spun on her heel and all but ran around the last corner. Her anger boiled over at the sight of Yukino standing entirely too close to Jellal. His smile was genuine and when she touched his shoulder, Erza thought her cheeks might actually catch fire with rage. She stalked toward them, still feeling Simon’s eyes on her back, and poked Jellal in the same shoulder Yukino’s fingers had just been violating. “Can we go?”

            The words came out harsher than she’d wanted and Yukino flushed. Jellal stared at her in confusion. He cleared his throat awkwardly and turned back to Yukino.

            “I’ll see you on Monday, okay? We’ll talk about it then.”

            “Okay,” Yukino’s voice was soft and sweet. Erza hated it. She instantly felt bad for her behavior when Yukino turned to her. “Goodnight, Erza.”

            “Yeah, sure.” Erza left them both behind in the hallway and balled her fists in her jacket pocket. She wanted to cry. In the space of ten minutes her day had gone from decent to absolutely horrible.

            The dance academy lobby was nearly empty and Erza continued her fast pace to the outside. Once she was through the doors, she filled her lungs with the warm summer air. Tears stung her eyes and she quickly wiped them dry.

            “Hey,” Jellal called from behind her. Erza didn’t stop and took the steps down to the sidewalk quicker than she really should have. “Hey,” he said again, wrapping his hand around her elbow. “Erza.”

            “What?”

            “What’s the matter with you?” He spun her around and pursed his lips. “Are you crying?”

            “No,” she said, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Her body betrayed her and hot, embarrassed tears leaked from her eyes. “Okay, fine. Yeah, I’m crying.”

            “Why?” his tone was softer as he pulled her away from the academy toward the side parking lot. “What happened?”

            Erza’s thoughts wheeled. Where should she even start?

            “Simon cornered me in the hallway and _you –”_ She poked at his shoulder again. “Weren’t there when I came out of the dressing room! I was _alone_ with him and he kept asking me to – to –”

            “To what, Erza?” he pressed in an almost whisper.

            “Are you going to go out with Yukino? Like _go out_ with her?” she blurted in a moment of total frustration. Jellal’s mouth hung open then shut abruptly. He took his hand away from her arm and slid them both into his pockets.

            “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t?”

            Erza felt like the wind had been punched from her lungs. _Yes!_ She wanted to scream. But that kind of outburst would lead to an examination of all the things they meant to each other and _that_ was the monster in Erza’s closet. She didn’t want to have that discussion – she thought if they avoided it, then she could keep him just as he was forever and never risk losing anything.

            “Erza –” Jellal sighed and his head fell backwards. “Let’s go, okay? It’s late.”

            “Okay,” she whispered. Erza followed him to his car and tossed her bag into the backseat before sliding into the front.

            The drive back to her apartment building was silent. Erza kept her eyes on the city beyond the window but could feel Jellal’s quiet looks. He said nothing until he pulled into the building’s small circle driveway. A sigh broke the silence.

            “Erza, are you gonna tell me what that was all about? I can’t fix it if I don’t know what I did.”

            “You didn’t do anything,” Erza managed to say despite the tightness that hadn’t left her throat. “It’s me. I’m just so tired.”

            “I shouldn’t have asked you to go to the pier with me. All that walking and then your class –”

            “That’s not what I mean. I’m just _tired._ I don’t like having Simon’s sister in that class. She hates it, you know? She wants to do fencing.”

            “I believe it. She seems like the type of kid who’d be into swordplay.”

            Erza laughed and some of the weight on her shoulders eased off. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. Will you apologize to Yukino for me? I – I don’t want your girlfriend to hate me.” She nearly choked on the word _girlfriend._

            “She isn’t my girlfriend, Erza, but she might be.” His expression was pained when she glanced over at him. “I don’t want this to come between us, Erza. If you don’t like her or if you think there’s… another reason I shouldn’t go out with her…” Jellal trailed off and Erza’s heart pounded violently.

            “No,” she whispered in defeat. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t go out with her.” She tried to smile but knew it was an ugly thing. “She’s great, Jellal. I’ll see you later, okay? At practice or whatever.”

            “Erza –”

            She didn’t let him finish. Erza yanked on the door handle and stumbled from his car. It wasn’t until his headlights disappeared around the circle and corner that she realized she’d left her bag in his car.

* * *

 

            “Why does your phone keep beeping?” Mirajane asked, picking through her bag of jellybeans.

            “It’s nothing.” Erza twisted strands of Mirajane’s hair into what was supposed to be a complicated braid but was actually just a mess. She raked her fingers through it and the whole thing fell apart.

            “Did you just yank all that work out?” Mirajane ran her own fingers through her hair. “Why?”

            “I’m not really good at braiding,” Erza muttered, flopping backward onto Mirajane’s bed.

            “Bullshit,” Mirajane said, twisting her mass of hair back into a band. “You’re hair is always fabulous when you’re on stage.”

            “Jellal does that for me,” she whispered. Her phone beeped again, and Erza groaned dramatically. “That’s him.”

            She didn’t stop Mirajane from scrolling through two days of unanswered texts from Jellal on her phone.

            “Are you not speaking to him? Why?”

            “He’s got a girlfriend.”

            “A girlfriend? Like… one that’s not you?” Mirajane tossed the phone aside and crawled up to the bed.

            “Yes.”

            Mirajane made a face and tapped her fingers on the fringed edge of a pillow. “It’s that one girl, right? The one with hair like mine?”

            “How did you know that?”

            “Call it my feminine intuition.”

            “Your _what?”_

            “I just remember her being backstage after your spring show. She was laying it on pretty thick.” Mirajane made a smug noise. “She can get away with it because she’s so cutesy but it was super obvious.”

            “This sucks.”

            “I told you to just tell him how you felt. This is your fault.”

            Erza sat up and glared at her phone. “No, it’s _his_ fault.”

            “Listen, sweetie, most boys are dumb as a box of rocks. Jellal is smart.” Mirajane sat up and snatched Erza’s phone from the floor. “He’s totally in love with you but keeps it under control because he values your relationship as it is.”

            “I don’t know what you mean.”

            “You know, I think it’s _you_ who’s dumb, Erza. He’s playing it safe. Jellal cares about you and your friendship _and_ partnership – which, by the way, he keeps up for _you_.”

            Erza bit her lip in frustration. Of course she knew that. He’d told her when they were thirteen he’d never be a soloist.

            “He sees the way Simon tries to piss on your leg every time you walk into a room. The boys at school are too intimidated by Simon to come on to you and none of those boys at your dance school would dare step on Jellal’s toes. That whole thing is really sexist and gross, you are _not_ Jellal’s property, but that’s neither here nor there. You’re stuck. These boys have you in a corner.”

            “I don’t know what to do.”

            “Well, first you need to make up with Jellal. I love you, Erza, but we both know _he’s_ your best friend. Fix that first. _Then_ we’ll get you a date that’s not Simon.”

            “But you just said –”

            Mirajane laughed. “Do you think the only place to snag a guy is at school or your dance classes? You need to get out more.”

            Erza took her phone from Mirajane and turned it over in her hands. So Jellal would date Yukino. So what? She could live with that – _kind of_ – and only if Mirajane could point her at a boy who, hopefully, was nothing like Jellal.

* * *

 

            Erza’s bedroom was dark except for the glow of her phone. She stared at her unsent message and bit her lip.

            “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered and tapped the send button.

            _‘I’m sorry. I’ve been shitty lately. It’s not your fault.’_

_‘I don’t want to fight with you. Is this about Yukino?’_

Erza sighed and swallowed her frustration. She would _not_ ruin anything Jellal had with Yukino because she was jealous. If he wanted to go out with her and kiss her and _whatever_ that was fine. It was _fine._

            _‘I just want you to be happy. If she makes you happy, then I’m happy.’_

Jellal didn’t respond for several long minutes.

            _‘I was never unhappy. I can’t stand it if you’re mad at me, Erza.’_

_‘Am I the reason you stay in dance?’_

_‘Yes.’_ The response came immediately and Erza frowned.

            _‘Why?’_

_‘Because you’re my best friend and I love you. You love it and you need a partner. So here I am.’_

_‘Does Yukino hate me?’_

_‘Nobody hates you.’_

_‘I love you too. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for practice?’_

_‘And every morning until you’re sick of it.’_

_‘You’re dumb. Goodnight.’_

_‘Maybe I’m dumb but you’re not running for the hills either.’_

_‘Go to bed, Jellal.’_

_‘As you wish.’_

Erza’s stomach flipped over. _The Princess Bride_ had been her favorite movie until the DVD was permanently gouged in a battle with the DVD player. Did he really mean _‘as you wish’_ as in… _as you wish?_

            She slid her phone under her pillow and stared into the darkness. Why did everything have to be so complicated now?


	8. Chapter 8

            Erza scowled and depressed the doorbell again. The townhouse was silent. She circled back around to the front of the house and peeked in the garage windows. Only Jellal’s car sat in the darkened garage. She already knew that, though. Anna was with her mother at their apartment and Acnologia… well who knew where he was; business travel most likely. Erza swore under her breath and returned to the front door. She knelt down and dug her set of keys from her equipment bag. The door suddenly swung open and a very sleep-disheveled Jellal stood in the doorway.

            “What are you doing here?” he asked with a yawn, leaving the door open for her but still turning back around to head to the kitchen.

            “You’re kidding me right?” Erza shouldered her bag and kicked the front door closed behind her with her heel. “We have that meeting today with the academy director and that’s _before_ we run through that new routine. It’s a mess.”

            “Yeah, I know all that.” Jellal guzzled orange juice from the carton the way Erza _knew_ Anna hated. “But why are you here _now_ at six in the morning on the first weekday where we are officially no longer high school students? I should be asleep.”

            “Jesus, Jellal, did you breakup with your brains, too? You said you wanted to run this morning. I got up at five o’clock to be here by six!”

            “Did I say that?”

            _“Yes!”_ Erza snatched the juice carton from him and sneered at it before dumping the remainder of tainted juice down the sink drain and tossing the container. “Get dressed!”

            “Yeah, yeah.” Jellal turned to shuffle out of the kitchen and when Erza followed, he raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

            “I’m making sure you actually dress and come back down. I’m not sitting around here for a half hour before I realize you’ve gone back to bed.”

            Jellal sighed and took the stairs two at a time. Erza followed him right into his room and stretched out across his bed to prevent him from returning to it.

            “You’re really annoying today,” he muttered, throwing his dirty sleep shirt in her face.

            “You’re annoying _every_ day.” Jellal’s phone blared an alarm and Erza reached for it. “Have you been snoozing this alarm for half an hour?”

            “Maybe,” he called from the closet.

            “So you _did_ remember about running, you just didn’t feel like letting me know you wanted to sleep instead?”

            “It’s not that deep, Erza. I just hit snooze a bunch of times without thinking.” When he emerged from his closet he’d changed into a pair of track pants and a clean shirt. “Toss me my shoes, will you? They’re over on the other side of the bed.”

            Erza retrieved his shoes and held them out in her hand. “Are you even going to be able to keep up with me? You look like shit.”

            “I’ll do just fine.”

            “I’m so glad I’ve never had such depressing breakups,” Erza said haughtily. The words slipped out before she could stop them and she instantly regretted saying anything.

            “I must’ve slept through _your_ relationships,” Jellal muttered. “Did you have one of those? I don’t recall.”

            “Labels don’t matter.”

            “The only people who say that are the people who have hookups and then try to comment on actual relationships like they know what they’re talking about.”

            “I hope you have some breath left after all that talking. I’m not going to run slower so you can keep up.”

            Jellal tucked away his shoelaces and stood. “We’ll see who can keep up. There’s a new trail by the pond.”

            “Trail? But –”

            “Oh, are you backing out?” His expression was viciously challenging and Erza found her ego wasn’t so easily tucked away as his shoelaces.

            “Absolutely not.”

            Jellal left his house key in the planter by the front door and led them down the street to the park at the dead end. The trail was a fine blend of woodchips that disappeared into the trees. Erza tried to can her unease. She didn’t like natural trails, they made her feel uneasy and off balance. Jellal knew that. Maybe she shouldn’t have teased him about his breakup with Yukino.

            “Three miles,” he said, his eyes already beyond the trees.

            “Right,” Erza whispered. She glanced over at him but he didn’t return the look. Without warning he took off running and Erza huffed in frustration before following.

            The morning air was thick with summer humidity and the only sound she could hear was the puff of their breaths and the smack of their shoes on the trail. She couldn’t relax because the loose chips made her feel like she could twist an ankle at any moment. The only other occupants of the trail were a pair of old women who looked to be wildflower enthusiasts.

            After a slogging thirty minutes, Erza heaved a breath of relief when the pond came back into view. Jellal slowed to a walk and clutched the sides of his t-shirt. If he was experiencing any fatigue he didn’t show it.

            “I win,” he breathed.

            “It wasn’t a race,” Erza gasped. Her legs felt like jelly. She _hated_ running on natural trails.

            “What about if we race back home?”

            Erza scowled and sucked in a deep breath before she bolted back toward the sidewalk. She thought maybe she heard Jellal protest from behind her but she powered through the burn in her legs and flew all the way back to the townhouse.

            “Now _that_ was cheating,” he said with much less force than before. Erza grinned but said nothing – she lacked the breath. She followed Jellal inside and suddenly felt petulant once they were back in his bedroom.

            “Why did you stay with her for so long?” she demanded. Jellal didn’t hesitate like she thought he would.

            “Because with Yukino things were simple.”

            “What the fuck does that mean?” Erza grabbed his arm and watched as he kicked off his sneakers instead of answering her. “Tell me why you were with her and not –” she faltered. This was the question always on the tip of her tongue and _sometimes_ she thought he always expected her to ask.

            “And not you?” His grin was sharp.

            “Yes. Why were you with Yukino for almost two years when you’re…” Erza’s eyes searched his face and she realized he’d grant her absolutely no quarter on this front.

            “Because Yukino wasn’t a liar.”

            “Excuse me?”

            Jellal shrugged but didn’t move away from her. “I asked you so many times if there was a reason why I shouldn’t date her and you said no. Over and over you said _no._ ”

            “But –”

            “So I went out with someone who told me every day how much she loved me and appreciated me and I never had to ask her or prompt her.”

            “That’s not fair, Jellal,” Erza whispered.

            “No, you know what’s not fair?” He moved closer to her and she could see every sun freckle on his nose. “What’s not fair is me always doing the work so you don’t have to. When we were eight I watched you struggle with things you were absolutely capable of doing. It was so fucking hard to watch you cry in class so I fixed it. I stepped in and made it better and I haven’t stopped doing that ever since. I’m always right behind you and, Erza, I’m not even mad. You’re my best friend, my _first_ friend, in this whole shitty world and I love you. I _love_ being your partner. It makes me happy.”

            Erza felt her throat tightening and tried to stave off tears.

            “You’ve always given me a soft place to land when I didn’t understand why my parents weren’t like other parents. When they divorced you held my hand and made that whole thing _better._ I honestly can’t imagine my life without you.” His face softened and Erza frowned. “But when it comes to _this,”_ he whispered. “When it comes to this specific kind of love, I’m not doing the work for you. I won’t. I _can’t_. Yukino made me realize that I deserve to be told without prompting and without prodding that I’m worth the effort.”

            Erza opened her mouth but the words were stuck. They’d been stuck for ages and she didn’t know how to get them out.

            “If you want me, Erza, you’ll have to tell me. You’ll have to be the one to come to me. That’s just how it has to be for _me.”_

            Jellal stepped away from her and tugged his shirt over his head and before disappearing into the bathroom. She heard the water switch on and felt a storm gathering in her chest.

            “What are you doing?”

            “I’m showering.” He reappeared in the doorway of the bathroom in nothing but his boxer briefs. “You’re welcome to join me, Erza. You know how to make that happen.”

            Irrational, stubborn anger overtook her and she crossed her arms over her chest. Jellal shrugged again and she watched him retreat into the bathroom. The shower door clicked closed and Erza’s arms fell to her sides.

            _He’s right._ The voice in her head said in a patronizing tone. Erza’s heart raced as she kicked off her own shoes, tugged off her socks and left a trail of clothes leading into the bathroom. The last thing she shrugged off was her bra and it landed in a pile along with Jellal’s pants. She stepped into the shower and watched the soap slide from his shoulders.

            Erza felt completely at a loss. He’d also been right in his assessment of her relationships – she’d never had one. Not a _serious_ one anyway. She reached out to touch his arm and Jellal suddenly spun around. His hands found her waist and she wondered how she’d been in his arms so many times over the years and never once took the next step closer.

            “Do you have something to say to me, Erza?” he asked, pressing his forehead against hers. His lips were so, so close.

            “You were right.”

            “Was I?” He grinned and Erza realized every part of her was touching every part of him. It thrilled her in a way nothing else had.

            “About all of it. I – I haven’t had a relationship like yours. I didn’t want one. And also about the other stuff.” Her mind was slowly turning to a wad of sex-flavored mush.

            “What other stuff?”

            “Uh, the stuff about you doing all the work. I’m sorry.” Erza’s eyes slid closed when he pressed his cheek against hers and she felt his lips against her ear.

            “And?”

            “And I want you, Jellal. I want to _be_ with you and not just in this shower but all the time and everywhere and I’m sorry for lying to you I just didn’t know what to say or how to say –”

            “Erza,” he whispered, leaving a kiss on her cheek. “That’s too many words.”

            “Okay.”

            Jellal’s hands moved from her hips down to her thighs and he lifted her with practiced ease. Erza hooked her ankles together and slid her arms over his shoulders.

            “I love you,” she whispered in a breath. “I love you and I’m _in_ love with you.”

            “I know. I just needed you to say it.”

            The shower spray soaked her hair and her skin and the soap that still sluiced from his skin made everything slick and slippery but Jellal’s grip on her was firm. When he kissed her lips finally she realized she’d been wasting her time. And when he slid inside of her, she could think of nothing else.

* * *

 

            Jellal blotted her hair dry with studious reverence. She picked at her nails as he combed conditioner into it and twisted it into the kind of braid she preferred when they were working.

            “What now?” Erza asked absently. She glanced up at the bathroom mirror and her eyes lingered on the lean muscle lines that dipped below the towel around his waist.

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean what do we do now? Is this it? Are we…”

            “It doesn’t need to be complicated,” he muttered, tying off the end of her braid. “We’ll just… be a couple now. I guess.”

            Erza spun around and touched his chest. “You guess?”

            “Yeah, I mean… yeah.”

            “How do we do that?”

            “I don’t know what you’re asking.” He traced the curve of her neck and shoulder with one finger.

            “Is there some kind of transition? Or do we need to make a Facebook post? I just don’t know how to be a couple now.”

            “We’ll figure it out. This isn’t what I’m used to either.” Jellal smiled and brushed his lips against hers. “I don’t care, though, Erza. I want this, too.”

            Erza dropped her hands to the fold of his towel and tugged. He lifted her to the edge of the counter and pulled at her towel but a shrieking alarm ruined everything.

            “I think that means we have to get going,” Erza whispered.

            Jellal sighed and kissed her once more. “We can’t skip it?”

            “Nope. It’s important, I think.”

            He nodded and retucked her towel closed. “Let’s go, then. I want to eat, too.”

            Erza dressed quickly, grateful she’d thought ahead to pack everything needed for the day in her bag earlier that morning. Jellal reached for her hand as he flipped off his bedroom light. Erza grabbed her bag and followed him down to the kitchen – where she promptly walked right into his back.

            “What the hell, Jellal,” she complained, stepping around him. The eyes of both Anna and Eileen were fixated on them. “Uh, mom –” Erza spluttered. “What are you doing here?”

            “Having breakfast,” Eileen said blandly. “How was your run?”

            Erza felt her gaze so acutely she wasn’t sure whether to release Jellal’s hand or squeeze it to death.

            “Fine,” Erza blurted. “It was fine. I took a shower. Here. I mean, _obviously.”_

            Anna quirked an eyebrow and Erza felt Jellal’s incredulous gaze.

            “I see. Don’t you two have a lesson soon?”

            “We do,” Jellal finally managed. “We should go and do that.” He glanced at his mother and then awkwardly pulled Erza from the kitchen. Jellal said nothing until they were in the garage. “That was awful.”

            “I didn’t think they’d be here,” Erza fussed. Jellal slid into the driver’s seat and Erza into the passenger side. She clicked her seatbelt into place and sighed.

            “Well, I think we can agree that’s _not_ what we talked about when it comes to moving forward together.”

            “Yeah, no, that was bad.” Erza chewed on her lip. “Do you think they know?”

            “Of course they know. Your mom has eyes like a hawk. We might’ve escaped her all seeing gaze if you hadn’t announced to the world we were in the shower together.”

            “I didn’t do that!”

            “You did.” Jellal grinned and reached over to squeeze her thigh. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. We aren’t doing anything wrong and this is all completely fine.”

* * *

 

            “I’m sorry, _what?”_ Erza asked, trying to remain calm. “A tour? With a real _troupe?”_

            “That’s what I said,” the academy director said smoothly. “They want you both for ten performances over the summer. Two alternating programs.”

            Jellal’s composed front was much better than Erza’s. “We could do the classical piece from last summer –”

            “No, they want acro,” the director interrupted. “I was thinking the new piece with the _side somis_ and _pitch tucks,_ and the piece from the spring show with all the jumps.”

            “The new piece isn’t ready,” Erza whispered.

            “It’s ready,” Jellal insisted. “Or it _will_ be soon. When do they want us?”

            “You’ve got eight days before the first show. You’ll need to fly out to the rest of the troupe in five.”

            “But –” Erza’s heart thudded painfully. Jellal reached over and closed his hand around hers.

            “Everything is paid for,” the director went on. “Your salary for the tour will be paid at the end. I don’t think I have to say how much this will benefit the dance academy. No pressure, of course, but the two of you are the best we have at the moment. You’re a little young for a traveling show like this but there really isn’t another acro team doing what you do. The fusion of ballet and acrobatics is unique.”

            “We’ll be ready. Right, Erza?” Jellal looked over at her and some of the nerves in her chest fizzled away – _some_ but not all.

            “Yeah,” she whispered. “We’ll be ready.”

            “Good. Make me proud.”

            Jellal stood first and led Erza from the office and up two floors. He didn’t stop until they were alone in the third floor hallway.

            “Stop panicking,” he said, covering her shoulders with his hands. “This is an incredible opportunity.”

            “Jellal,” she huffed. “You know damn well that new piece is not anywhere near performance level yet!”

            “But it _will_ be. We’ve got five days before we have to fly out. We can be here every day until then making sure everything is perfect.”

            Erza bit her lip and felt anxiety churn in her stomach. All of the things that could go horribly, and embarrassingly wrong flashed in her mind like a horrible peep show.

            “What are we going to tell our parents?”

            “The truth.”

            “What if we fuck it all up? What if I fall and –”

            “I would never let that happen, Erza.” He inched closer to her and slid his thumbs over the edges of her jaw. “This is our first big thing as a new team, okay? We’ve been working for _years_ for this kind of opportunity. We’re ready.”

            Erza took several deep breaths. “Okay. Yeah, okay, you’re right. The new piece needs some work but we can do that, no problem.”

            Jellal kissed her quickly and took her hand again. She tried to focus on the excitement of everything that had just happened but somewhere in the back of her mind she knew this wasn’t the transition she’d expected.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter! Thanks for reading!

Erza twisted the hot water off and reached for a clean towel. One of the beautiful things about hotels was the never-ending supply of clean linens. Fresh sheets and towels every day were very nice and she wasn’t looking forward to returning back to the part of her life where she’d be required to do her own laundry.

The balcony door stood open and the sheer curtains ruffled in the breeze. They’d been all over the country in the last few months but the southwest coast was her favorite. Everything smelled of tropical blooms that only grew in year-round balmy temperatures. The room wasn’t a large suite but it did have two queen-sized beds – only one of which had been disturbed. On her way to the balcony, Erza snatched a stray pillow and tossed it near the head of tousled hair poking out of the mess of sheets.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” she said. “We’ve got an hour until breakfast and then we only get the practice stage for three hours today.”

The voice from beneath the sheets was indecipherable. Erza sighed and left him to sleep. Still in her towel, she crossed the room and leaned out over the edge of the railing. A summer of travel and work hadn’t been what she’d wanted for herself and Jellal. Yes, the hotels were fun and the work had been invaluable as a learning experience but… she knew this wasn’t real life. They’d been sharing a bed and living space for months completely outside the context of everyday reality. In a lot of ways she didn’t want to talk about, this time together didn’t count.

Erza sighed and listened for Jellal rising from bed and the bathroom water to eventually shut off. Jellal’s fingers on her shoulders were cool but his minty breath on her neck was warm. He left a kiss just below her ear.

“You’re up earlier than me today,” he whispered, sliding his hand between the flaps of her towel. “That’s a first.”

“I’m just thinking.”

“About?” His fingers inched over her stomach.

“This is our last week. The final show is in two days and then we go home.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, I miss my own bed. I miss sleeping in.” He spun her around and pulled her back into their room. Erza didn’t stop him from tossing her towel aside. She let him back her to the edge of the bed and he followed her into the sheets. “And I miss carbs.”

“It’s always about food with you,” Erza whispered before kicking off his pajama pants and allowing him to settle between her legs.

“Mostly just carbs.” Jellal kissed her the way he always did in the mornings. As if she’d been gone for days and he was starving. It was a thing she’d miss when they returned to their separate lives.

Erza tightened her thighs at his hips and tried to lock away her many, many questions. Questions Jellal hadn’t brought up even once over the last few months. He seemed utterly unbothered by concepts such as _‘You know our mothers have been looking to share a place at least part time, right?’_ and _‘How will a move like that impact us as a couple?’_ She was both irritated by his lack of concern and relieved. If Jellal wanted to pretend everything was fine, so could she!

That philosophy had been acceptable up until recently. Summer was drawing to a close quicker than she’d expected, though, and they’d have to address these issues very, very soon.

* * *

 

Erza picked at her salad and set all the peanuts aside on a separate saucer. She felt her mother’s eyes on her but tried not to react.

“You’re awful quiet,” Eileen said, stirring the ice in her cocktail.

“I’m just tired, I guess. This summer has been a lot more exhausting than I realized it would be.”

“Prolonged tours can take a lot out of you.” She flipped her sunglasses up to the top of her head. “When you were fifteen I was gone for only six weeks and wanted to sleep for a year afterward.”

“I remember that.” Erza grinned at her and finally settled on a forkful of greens. “You were grouchy.”

“I was.” Eileen slipped into silence and Erza felt the unasked questions hanging in the air between them. “Erza, you know I’m extremely proud of you and I’m desperately trying to mind my own business here but –”

“You can ask about Jellal, mom,” Erza murmured.

“How’s that working out?”

“It’s fine. I’m happy.”

“I’m happy you’re happy, love.”

Erza continued to pick at her salad before setting aside her fork and heaving a deep sigh. “I’m really anxious. We’ve been on tour for months and this...” She swallowed back the sudden urge to cry. “This isn’t real life, mom. It’s just not. What’s going to happen when we go home? We didn’t have time to talk about any of it before all this travel and I’m worried that when we go home things will go back to the way they were and we’ll never talk about the important stuff and everything’ll just… it’ll just...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

“Fall apart?” Eileen offered softly.

“Yes. He hasn’t said anything about any of this to me and it’s starting to freak me out.”

“Can I offer a crumb of advice?”

“Yeah.”

“Jellal is a lot like his mother in some ways. He’s impulsive. He thinks with his heart and not his head. There may be times when you need to bring him back down from the clouds.”

“Do you remember that day we got the offer for the tour?”

“The one where you were busted post-shower?” Eileen laughed as Erza’s face turned red. “Yes, I remember.”

“He told me that he didn’t mind being my shoulder in most things but when it came to us as a couple he needed me to take the first step because he wanted to know that I thought he was worth my effort.”

“That’s a mature thing for him to say.” Eileen thoughtfully swirled her ice again. “I don’t think it’s an unfair request. From my outside view I think Jellal does a lot for you. As your relationship changes you’ll need to make sure the giving is equal if you want to keep him. And I don’t mean just romantically, Erza.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You and Jellal are both needy people. I know you allow him to take from you but sometimes that’s not enough. You have to _give_ and giving means most when you aren’t asked. _”_

“I’m afraid we’ll fizzle out and I’ll lose everything.”

“Relationships are work, my love. Tell him how you feel. You’re right about this not being real life. It’s not all hotel rooms and sex.” Eileen poked around on Erza’s salad plate and stabbed a few slices of cucumber.

“Well, I have to admit that part is really nice.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth Erza felt her face heat up. She’d once thought herself the queen of hookups but couldn’t admit to any of it without blushing.

“I’m sure he’s an attentive lover,” Eileen said absently. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Is this about you and Anna? Are you going to tell me that you’ve moved in together?”

“Not quite,” Eileen hedged. “I didn’t want to spring that on you after a summer away. We’ve been looking for a place large enough for us and you.”

“Just me?”

“I don’t imagine Jellal will want to give up his personal space at the townhouse. Any flat or house Anna and I have won’t be nearly as large.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Erza sighed and her gaze veered off to the flower boxes that lined the cafe patio. “Everything is changing so fast. I can barely keep up.”

“Erza, this is why I didn’t want to make any decisions without you. You’re eighteen but still my daughter and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable at home.”

“It’s fine, mom,” she whispered. “I’m just ready for the summer to be over.”

* * *

 

Anna leaned over and pressed her chin to Eileen’s shoulder.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she mused quietly as the auditorium fell dark.

“I think Erza is having a hard time.”

“With?”

“Everything.” Eileen sighed and wished the evening were over. “She’s afraid Jellal will get tired of her and she’s anxious about moving.”

“It’s hard to make decisions about your life when you’re still in the whirlwind of new love and long bouts of travel.”

“In a way I think they jumped the gun a little bit.”

“Probably. Jellal tends to make emotional decisions and not think about them until later.”

“Why does that sound so familiar?”

Anna laughed softly. “I have _no_ idea.”

The auditorium darkened and Anna leaned her head on Eileen’s shoulder. Eileen couldn’t quite put away her conversation with Erza and watched the performance with an eye for the kind of anxiety typical of her daughter. Erza and Jellal moved with preternatural grace. It was immediately clear that the tour had been very good for them on a professional level. There was a kind of effortless trust in the way Erza never hesitated in any of the lifts or jumps. Of course, they’d always had a connection other pairs would never touch but _now_ there was a new layer and Eileen could understand the acclaim. The smooth fusion of ballet and acrobatic dance was remarkable.

Anna sighed quietly. “They’re all grown up,” she whispered. “Our babies aren’t babies anymore.”

“They haven’t been babies for a while,” Eileen replied with a wistful grin. Despite all the pain her youthful decisions had caused her, Erza was the flower that bloomed in a garden of weeds.

* * *

 

Erza drummed her fingers on the armrest of her seat. As the plane taxied closer and closer to the gate, she felt the anxiety mounting. Jellal’s hand closed around hers.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just anxious.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He smiled at her and she flushed in embarrassment. “Is there a reason you’re anxious?”

“It’s just been a long summer. I want to move forward.”

“I thought this whole thing has been a big effort in moving forward,” he said quietly. “You don’t think so? We aren’t the same team we were when we left.”

“Professionally? Yeah, I agree.” She didn’t mean to sound so snappish but her tone belied her frustration.

“And privately?” His hand tightened around hers.

“Can we maybe talk about that when we get off the plane? I’m just feeling claustrophobic in here.” She grabbed his wrist when he tried to pull away. Jellal sighed and Erza felt even more agitated. She stubbornly clung to his hand even once they’d made it through the jetway and into the terminal. Eileen stood awkwardly next to Acnologia – who had a mild scowl as he stared at his phone. He didn’t glance up until Eileen rushed forward to embrace Erza.

“Hey, dad,” Jellal muttered before turning to Erza. “I’ll call you later, okay?” Acnologia quirked an eyebrow and slid his phone into his pocket.

“Uh, yeah, okay.” Erza’s voice was hardly a whisper. She absolutely refused to cry in the airport. For the first time in months, Jellal walked away from her.

* * *

 

“Where’s mom?” Jellal asked, arranging his luggage in the back of Acnologia’s town car.

“She had a class at her studio this morning and asked me to collect you from the airport. I had my assistant reschedule everything.”

“Can you do that?”

“Son, when you are in charge, you can do anything you please.”

“How’s mom’s studio been?” He didn’t know why he asked, he knew his mother’s business venture wasn’t hurting for clients. Eileen’s status as former _prima ballerina_ drew students of all ages.

“She is a natural,” Acnologia said in a tone Jellal decided was _proud._ “She is doing what she was meant to do.”

Jellal slid into the passenger seat and heaved a deep breath. Acnologia’s cars had always smelled of crisp mint.

“And you?” he blurted on a whim. “Are you happy?”

Acnologia laughed softly. “I am, as your mother would say, putting my best foot forward.”

“She told me she’s looking to move out.”

“She is. I think it is for the best. How do you feel about that?”

“I’ll miss her at the townhouse but I want her to be happy. I –” Jellal watched a plane take off in the side mirror. “I think you and mom were great parents. I know we aren’t a… _conventional_ family but when I look back I don’t have any sadness.”

“Your mother and I both love you without any complications, Jellal. That much is absolutely true.”

“I think I messed something up, dad,” Jellal whispered. “Something big.”

“Matters of the heart are often complex in nature.”

“Erza and I –” His eyes fell to his hands. “I think I pushed her too fast and I think maybe she’s suffered because of me.”

“The solutions to these problems are usually found in communication. Perhaps your mother and I were never in love, but we did not shy away from the difficult discussions. You share something with Ms. Belserion’s daughter that is beyond my understanding.” Acnologia paused and Jellal glanced up to see his father’s hands twist on the steering wheel. “I admit romance is not my forte but bonds such as these are not easily damaged.”

“I just wanted to know what I meant to her. That’s all. I wanted her to _tell_ me. Yukino always –” Jellal cut off when Acnologia laughed.

“Even I can see the fallacy in comparing lovers, Jellal. No two persons are alike. They do not belong on the same shelf, your silver haired girl and Miss Scarlet.”

Jellal’s heart felt heavier than it ever had.

“Answer me this,” Acnologia said quietly. “Is Miss Scarlet so very hard to read?”

“No. She’s kind of emotional but she’s usually got her mood written all over her face. She does this thing with her lips and eyebrows when she’s mad. It’s only funny when it’s not _me_ she’s mad at.”

“You know her well, Jellal. Do you need her to describe her heart to you?”

“No.” Jellal fidgeted. “Maybe I just wanted to tease her a little. I wanted to make _her_ come to _me._ ”

“Has that ever been the nature of your relationship?”

“No.”

“And what did you do when she took those steps?”

Jellal scrubbed his hands over his face. “I skipped over the work and went straight to dessert.”

“And now you fear you’ve hurt her?”

“Yeah. She’s been upset...” he trailed off and scowled at the passing trees. “She’s been upset for weeks. _Months._ I knew it and I ignored it. She was anxious before we even left. _God,_ I really messed everything up. Why did I do that?”

“Because you are young and impulsive. Eighteen is a perfect storm of an age. This is a thing you take from your mother. Anna is ever driven by her heart.”

“I gotta fix it.”

“You will, Jellal.” Acnologia glanced over at him. “I wanted to congratulate you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“I watched all your performances this summer.” He laughed lightly. “I ordered a stream of every one. Your skill has grown and it makes me proud.”

“Thanks, dad.” Jellal’s stomach rumbled and Acnologia laughed again.

“I assume you’re ready for food?”

“Something horrible,” Jellal said with enthusiasm. “Something with lots of bread… and _pasta._ I’m so sick of dieting.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Acnologia had always been a big fan of meals. Jellal supposed his appetites didn’t come entirely from his mother.

* * *

 

Erza heard her mother answer the front door and excuse herself from their apartment. She wiped her frustrated tears and waited on the edge of her bed. Jellal’s knock came softly and he only peeked beyond the door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t stand to greet him and he stopped in front of her only briefly before crouching down to fold his arms on her knees.

“Erza, I’m really sorry.”

“I’m afraid,” she whispered, her tears threatening to return. “I’m afraid I’m not what you want. I’m afraid that I’m going to say the wrong things and –”

“You’re _always_ what I want. You’ve been what I want since we were kids and I didn’t think I needed to make friends at school because I had _you._ I never want to push you, Erza.”

“Sometimes I need to be pushed.”

“Maybe but not like that. I didn’t trust that you’d be honest with me, with _yourself,_ and I was afraid of what that meant. I didn’t want to waste more time with anyone else. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you or pushed you.”

“You deserved to hear me say that I loved you, Jellal, and you deserved to know that you’re worth all my effort. I don’t want to waste time with anyone else either. I don’t know _how_ to.” Erza ran her fingers through his hair and frowned. “I’m not even sure I know how to do this with _you._ I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”

“I don’t need you to know any of that.” Jellal took both of her hands and kissed her palms. “This learning curve is worth it if I get to be with you. I am _never_ going to be tired of you.”

Erza slid off the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She heaved a deep breath and felt the weight of the summer and all her anxiety ease off a little bit.

“Move into the townhouse with me,” Jellal whispered in her ear. Erza jerked back and gaped at him.

“What? Is that a good idea?”

“It’s a _genius_ idea. The entire third floor is a guest suite. It could be ours. My dad won’t mind.”

“How do you know that?”

Jellal shrugged and Erza wasn’t convinced.

“I don’t know, this feels _really_...”

“Impulsive?” He smiled and brushed the tears from her cheeks.

“Yeah. _Super_ impulsive, Jellal.” Erza leaned into him and kissed his lips. “Let’s take a step back for a bit, okay? I want to breathe. We’ll try and be normal and go on dates first.”

“We can do dates. I love dates!”

“Do you?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Only dates with you, though. Nobody else.”

“That’s fair. Let’s see how this move with our moms goes and then we can talk to your dad together.” Erza ran her hands over his t-shirt and smiled. “Maybe by next summer we’ll be ready?”

“That’s a good plan, Erza. I’m so glad you’re good with planning. I’m –”

“Impulsive?”

“Something like that.”


	10. Chapter 10

Eileen adjusted the brightly colored ribbon tied around the flower pot and sighed. The hydrangea plant was beautiful and she knew Erza would love it. Her daughter had always been partial to the bright pink blooms.

“Is it really a housewarming if they’re not technically moving?” Anna asked from the hallway.

“Maybe not.” Eileen touched the edges of the pink petals. “But I don’t think a gift is inappropriate. I suppose _technically_ Erza moved. A plant is sensible considering they don’t _need_ anything.”

“Well?” Anna appeared in the kitchen and tried to smooth the skirt of her dress. “How do I look?”

“Delicious,” Eileen said pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Is it summery enough?”

“Why are you so worried about it?”

“Because I want to always be prepared for an engagement announcement video.”

“A what?” Eileen asked quickly.

Anna huffed and crossed the kitchen. “You know it’s coming. Or some _other_ announcement.”

“It seems a bit of a reach, Anna. They’ve only dated for two years.” She paused and watched Anna gulp down a tumbler of water. “And that’s only if you count the summer where nothing but hotel rooms happened.”

“I just want to look nice.”

“Is this about that grey hair you found in your brush?”

Anna’s shoulders fell and she spun around, her golden hair fanning in the early afternoon sun. “Maybe.”

“And isn’t it you always telling me how old we _aren’t?”_

“It’s one thing to say it, and another to _see_ it.”

“Maybe let’s not be _old._ Let’s be… _dignified.”_

“That’s not fun,” Anna said firmly. “Dignified isn’t _fun.”_

Eileen leaned in and brushed her nose against Anna’s. “You’re cute.” She stole a quick kiss. “Let’s go. We’ll be late for brunch.”

“Brunch is just an excuse to drink before noon.”

“I must’ve missed the problem,” Eileen said, cradling the hydrangea plant.

* * *

 

Jellal watched the scene in the kitchen with a warm fondness. His father and Erza spoke in soft tones with only short breaks of laughter. They’d been up since dawn preparing and rolling tamales. Erza was a lot more interested in learning to cook these traditional dishes than he’d ever been and Acnologia was _thrilled_ to teach her. The difference between Acnologia’s tamales and Erza’s was obvious at first but she’d caught on quickly.

“What do we do with all these extra husks?” Erza asked, arranging the last of the tamales in the basket.

“They go on top. Some say a towel is fine but my _abuelita_ always used the spare husks.”

“So how long does this take? Will they be ready for brunch?”

Acnologia’s laugh was deep and smooth. It reminded Jellal of his childhood. He’d stood on a chair at the exact same stretch of counter and failed miserably at masa spreading.

“Perhaps, but I think these are better suited for an early dinner.” He leaned in and smiled. “Jellal’s mother has a soft spot for them when she’s had her drinks.”

“Do you miss her?”

Jellal didn’t cringe, but he did watch his father carefully.

“I am happier as things are now. She is happy with your mother and I am here with my family. We are all connected.”

“I’ve always meant to ask you. I thought it might be rude.”

“It is not a rude question and I am not offended. Are you happy here?”

“I am. I think my mom deserves her space with someone she loves. Jellal and I are still...” Erza sighed and Jellal grinned. “We’re still figuring things out.”

“There is plenty of time for that.”

Jellal cleared his throat and crossed the kitchen. “So when’s lunch?”

_“Brunch,”_ Erza corrected. “You’re always starving.”

“It runs in the family,” Acnologia said, winking at Jellal. “The tamales are not for brunch, son. They are for later.”

Jellal’s face crumpled and Erza snorted. “You look like somebody kicked your puppy, Jellal.”

“I’m just hungry. What’s for _brunch,_ then?”

“Pastries, quiche, fruit –”

“So fake food, then?”

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” Acnologia said, pulling his phone from his pocket and glancing at the screen. “Perhaps Erza will allow you a tamale earlier than planned. Your mother will be here soon.”

Jellal watched his father leave the kitchen before turning to Erza with his best pitiful face.

“You’re such a baby, Jellal. We’ll eat when they get here.” She left him alone with the steaming tamales and followed Acnologia out to the terrace.

* * *

 

The weather was a perfect mix of summer balm and spring breeze. Jellal settled in a chair next to Erza with a full plate.

“I’d say you won’t have room for anything else today but I know that wouldn’t be true,” she muttered, poking him in the arm.

“I can’t help it. We’re taking the summer off and I know the winter will be completely devoid of carbs. I’ll work it off later. I’m hungry _now.”_

“You know, Jellal,” Anna said grinning at Erza. “You really should consider coming to work for me in the studio. You’ve always been good with the little ones. We’d love to have you.”

“Really?” he asked in a surprised voice. “But I thought –”

“Eileen is debuting her troupe after the new year and I’m taking a few of her private clients. We’ll need someone to cover the pre-ballet classes.”

“Uh, well –” Jellal turned to Erza who reached over to flick a crumb from his face.

“You should do it. I’m… I want a bit of a break after this winter season.” Jellal’s eyebrows flew up. “I want to go to university full time.”

“You’ll always have a spot in my _corps,_ love,” Eileen said from beside her. “It’s never a bad idea to have several backups. The world of dance is a fickle mistress.”

“This is… a lot,” Jellal muttered. Acnologia smiled and polished off his mimosa.

“I know you’ve been eyeing those early education courses, too, Jellal. You left your pamphlets on the table last month. Change is good.”

“It is,” Eileen said, folding her napkin and placing it on the table beside her empty plate. “And speaking of change, I have something to say.” She turned to Anna, whose eyes went wide. “It’s been a long road for us, Anna, for this whole family. And that’s what I consider us. _All_ of us. I think it’s important for you and I to take another step forward with the people we love around us.”

Jellal watched the scene with interest while still filling his mouth with mini quiche bites. Erza’s mouth hung open. Anna looked on the verge of tears. Acnologia didn’t look as if ant of this was a surprise.

_“_ _Yes,”_ Anna blurted.

“But I didn’t get to ask!” Eileen protested.

“You can still ask but my answer is yes.” Anna took the ring from Eileen and wiped her tears. “And just this morning I was worried about how I’d look just in case the kids announced something important! And you _knew!”_

“I did.” Eileen took Anna’s hand, and the ring, and slid it on her finger.

“But what about _your_ ring?” Anna pressed.

Acnologia cleared his throat. “You have an appointment at the jeweler this next week. Whatever you choose for your _fianc_ _é_ _e_ will be taken care of.”

Anna turned to him. “What? You don’t have to –”

“Let me give you this gift, Anna. You’ve given me so many things. I want to do this.”

“So everybody knew but me?”

“I didn’t know,” Jellal piped up. He turned to Erza. “Did you?”

“I didn’t have a clue.” She smiled at her mother. “I’m really happy for you both. This is so exciting! A wedding!”

“A small one,” Anna muttered, leaning into Eileen’s side.

“Maybe on a beach somewhere far away.”

Anna made an excited sound and pressed a slightly drunk kiss on Eileen’s cheek.

* * *

 

Erza sat cross-legged on the edge of the terrace. The garden beyond was small and mostly grass but lovely all the same. She glanced over at her new potted hydrangea and smiled.

“Hey,” Jellal said, sitting beside her and handing over a saucer with two still-steaming tamales. “Hungry?”

“I could eat something.” She laughed at the way he dug into his own.

“Wow, these turned out great, Erza,” he said with a full mouth. “I’m so glad you’re making these now.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it. Those were labor intensive.” Erza set aside her empty saucer and dangled her feet over the edge of the terrace. “What a day, huh?”

“I can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

“In a way I wish I’d moved out sooner so they could’ve had this before.” She sighed and felt a knot of sad frustration in her chest. “I’m sorry I’m so slow.”

“Erza, that’s not fair. You’re being too hard on yourself. You can’t take something like that as a thing to be sorry for. We needed more than that first year,” he added with a whisper. “I don’t regret it.”

“I still feel like it’s always me holding us back.”

“It’s _not._ It’s _me_ who’s always trying to race ahead. That’s why we _work._ I wouldn’t do anything differently.”

“No?”

“No. We’re here now and I’m happy. There’s going to be a lot of changes soon and I think it’s what we need.”

“You don’t resent me for wanting to take a break?”

“No way. I’ve always said I stayed for you, Erza. When you’re out, I’m out.”

“What if I join my mom’s _corps_? As a backup, I mean.”

“You _know_ if you need me I’ll be there. But I think you’ll be fine. Just don’t –”

“Try and be my mom?” she cut him off with a smile. Jellal reached over and tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear. “Did you know that I love you?” she whispered.

“Maybe you should show me.”

“With more tamales?”

“Well, that too but I was thinking of another way.”

Erza feigned scandal. “Right here? In front of my new hydrangea?”

“The plant should know what’s up, Erza.” He inched closer to her and pressed a kiss to her neck. “My dad’s gone already. He left an hour ago to catch a flight. It’s just us.”

“And the neighbors?”

“I’ll send them a viewing bill.”

“You’re the worst,” she said even as she swung around and straddled his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive this awful cheese but I couldn't think of a more fitting way to wrap up the story. I never expected for Anna and Eileen to take such a big part of the story but sometimes things change and evolve on their own. Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I wasn't going to write this but I'm a liar.
> 
> This chapter is not important to the main story and is completely extraneous. It's also smutty and centers around a very specific aspect of what happens when a person suddenly stops being a professional athlete. I'm not sorry in advance!

            Erza couldn’t help but feel disappointment at the sight of her mother and not Jellal when she stepped from the jetway and into the terminal. Eileen fielded her obvious disappointment with grace. She had a kind smile and a quick hug for her daughter.

            “I’m sorry, love, he had a class,” she said softly into Erza’s ear. “There’s a show this weekend and it’s important to him.”

            “It’s okay,” Erza said with a sigh. “He said he might not make it. I’m glad _you’re_ here though. I missed you.” Eileen’s smile was radiant and Erza tried not to shrink in on herself when her mother glanced her up and down.

            “Hungry?”

            “Uh, yeah. I guess.”

            “Let’s get your bags and grab some lunch.” Eileen slipped her arm through Erza’s and patted her hand affectionately. “The party isn’t until tonight and we’ve got a few hours to kill.”

            “Party?”

            “Anna wanted to celebrate the little ones Jellal is graduating out of his class tonight at the studio. She’s had a crew on the roof all afternoon making sure everything is perfect.”

            “Oh.” Erza bit her lip and tugged on the edges of her skirt that swished as they walked.

            “What’s wrong?” Eileen stopped and spun around to face her. “You’re morose.”

            “I don’t mean to be,” Erza hedged.

            “Are you tired? Would you rather go home instead? After such a long flight, I don’t think Anna or Jellal would mind.”

            “I just…” Erza’s eyes bounced all around the terminal before finally lighting on Eileen. “Can we maybe get the bags? I don’t want to talk about it here.”

            “Of course!” Eileen took her arm again and Erza tried to, unsuccessfully, swallow her anxiety.

* * *

 

            “Is that dress new?” Eileen asked from across the table. Sunlight dappled the café’s patio and her mother’s hair took on a glossy shine.

            “It is.”

            “It looks lovely on you.”

            “Mom –” Erza set aside her fork and glared down at her mostly untouched plate. “Mom, I got fat.”

            “I’m sorry, what?” Eileen asked, blinking in confusion.

            “Just look at me!” she said miserably. “I had to buy a bunch of new clothes! I even had to get a new bikini top because my boobs were just everywhere! I’ve never had that problem before!”

            “Erza,” Eileen said with stern finality. “You are _not_ fat. That’s a ridiculous claim.”

            “I gained at least fifteen pounds! Maybe twenty, I don’t know!”

            Eileen dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and set it aside. “Listen to me, Erza. You’ve been a dancer for most of your life. Up until the last two years you’ve had to maintain an athletic body that served one purpose. Ballet is harsh and takes a _lot_ of personal discipline. Of course you’ve gained weight now that you’ve moved on from it!”

            “I was only gone for eight months and now I’m twenty pounds fatter! Jellal is going to dump me!”

            “I’m not even going to acknowledge those words in the same sentence,” Eileen said blandly. “So you enjoyed eight months of pastry in a foreign country. _And?_ If it’s so important to you, just start working out again.” She sighed. “Though, I may as well tell you, Jellal doesn’t wake up at the crack of dawn to run anymore.”

            “He told me he took some extra classes at school plus teaching at the studio.” Erza poked at her food. “It’s been a long eight months, mom. I just don’t want to see his disappointed face.”

            “It’ll be okay, love. The only reason Jellal would ever be disappointed with you is if you refused him tamales. Acnologia has had a rough year of work, too. The poor boy is suffering.”

            Erza snorted. “A twenty-three year old man pouting over tamales is –”

            “As ridiculous as a twenty-three old woman crying over a little weight gain?”

            “Point taken,” Erza said with a smile.

* * *

 

            “Are you sure she knows what time to be here?” Jellal said over Anna’s shoulder.

            “Honestly, Jellal, can you give me some space?” Anna huffed. “You haven’t been this clingy since you were a toddler!”

            “It’s just getting late and everyone’s almost here and –”

            Anna spun around and shoved a baker box of croissants into his chest. “Put these out on the far table.”

            “But mom –”

            _“Go,”_ she commanded. “Before I push you off the roof and replace you with a cat.”

            Jellal sighed and wove through the small crowd to do his mother’s bidding. He couldn’t help his anxious mood. Erza had been gone for eight long months and he _needed_ her. He’d always thought of Erza as the needier one in their relationship but since she’d been studying thousands of miles away for the better part of a year he realized how easily he took her presence for granted. Long separations didn’t suit him.

            The noise level swelled and Jellal folded the baker box flat before stuffing it in a trash bag. When he spun around he saw her on the far side of the roof beside Eileen. She smiled before embracing his mother and Jellal’s palms itched. Erza’s eyes scanned the crowd and finally found him. His stomach turned over and it was all he could do not to rush over and crush her against him.

            He watched her move through the small crowd and… his head tilted to the side. There was something _different_ about her. Something new. Was it the dress? He hadn’t seen it before but she’d been gone for eight months. Definitely not the dress. She reached up to flick a strand of hair from her face and his eyes caught on the way the fabric of the dress clung to her hips. _Oh…_

            “Hey,” she said, when she stood only a few feet away. Erza’s fingers twisted nervously.

            “Hey.” Jellal smiled and closed the gap between them. She fit against him a little differently. Softer. _Fuller._ His arms circled her waist and the tips of her hair brushed against his fingers. _This._ He’d missed this the _most._ “You’re back,” he whispered.

            “I’m back.”

            He felt her hide her face in his neck and his hands settled over her hips. Erza’s frame had always been what he considered slim. She wasn’t quite petite – she was too tall for that – but she had a dancer’s build. Lithe. Lean and sleek. Her hips filled his palms in an entirely new way and her breasts pressed against his chest with much more _squish_ than before. It was _exciting._

            Jellal suddenly kissed the top of her head and stepped back. She gazed up at him and bit her lip.

            “Are you okay?” Erza asked slowly.

            “Yeah! I’m great!” he blurted, smiling too widely. “I’m _amazing!_ You look great, by the way.”

            “Uh, thanks.” She fidgeted awkwardly and Jellal took her hand in his.

            “I missed you. A _lot._ This last week has been exhausting.”

            Erza finally smiled and she ran her fingers over the buttons of his shirt. “I’m glad I took the earlier flight. I’ve been a mess lately.”

            Jellal pulled her against him again and kissed her as ardently as he dared in front of his pint-sized students. Her fingers tightened in his shirt and he wished they weren’t in public. Not only did he want to be _alone_ with his long lost _girlfriend_ but was also curious about her new shape.

            She whirled around and pulled him by the hand back into the small crowd of students and parents. He watched her hips sway and bit the inside of his cheek. The dress Erza wore was a light gauzy material and the way it hung over the swell of her backside was embarrassingly captivating. He could see the exact place where the waistband of her panties dug into her skin. The indent was new – and he would absolutely know because he’d been familiar with every curve of her body for _years._ Even as children it had been his job to know her better than anyone. If he didn’t… well, their career as acrobatic dancers would’ve been very short lived.

            A cool breeze ruffled the skirt of her dress and even her thighs looked thicker. An image of her new thighs wrapped around his waist flashed in his mind and he made a face. He _wanted_ to dig his fingers into the soft skin. He _needed_ to stop sexualizing her in public.

            _Think of something bad._

            An image of the mountain of unfolded clothes he’d left on their bed at home didn’t quite kill the stiffening interest in his pants but he could be cool. _He could!_

            Erza released his hand and he watched her bend and scoop one of the younger siblings of his oldest student into her arms. The child’s parents laughed at the way he grasped at Erza hair.

            “He’s such a cutie!” Erza said, dropping a kiss on his dimpled cheek. “And so big, too! He was just a little thing when I left!”

            “He’s our little chubby bunny!”

            Jellal could feel his face twist at the woman’s words. He watched her pry Erza’s hair from sticky toddler fingers. Was he a chubby chaser now?

            _…did that even matter?_

            _No,_ he decided. No it did not.

            He trailed behind Erza the entire evening and thought he’d been discrete in his interest until Eileen caught him staring. She raised one perfect, crimson eyebrow before her lips twisted into a smirk. Jellal had never been more embarrassed in his life.

* * *

 

            The sun was long gone by the time he pulled his car into the townhouse driveway. Erza sighed deeply and her head fell back against the headrest.

            “I’m beat.”

            “I’m sorry about the party,” Jellal whispered, reaching for her hand. “It was kind of last minute and after such a long flight, I bet you’re exhausted.”

            Her smile lifted his heart. “It’s okay. I had a good time and it’s important for your students to feel like they accomplished something.” Erza laughed and bit her lip. “Do you remember when we were that small? It’s been a while.”

            “I remember _you_ and your pink and white tights and leotards. You always had to look perfect all the time.”

            “I had a pretty difficult pair of shoes to fill. At least I _thought_ I did.”

            “I’ve always thought you were enough just being you, Erza. You never needed to be her.” Jellal brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Let’s go inside. It’s late and you look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

            The inside of the townhouse was dark except for the kitchen. Jellal locked the door behind them and tossed his keys into the same basket where both Acnologia’s and Erza’s keys lived. Hers had been undisturbed for months. Together they rounded the corner and Acnologia stood in the soft glow of the overhead oven light. He glanced up at them from his plate of left over pasta and smiled.

            “Erza,” he said in a low voice. “You have returned to us. How was your flight?”

            “Long.” Erza sighed. “The last eight months have just been _long.”_

            “Well, I am glad to see you home.” Acnologia glanced at Jellal. “Sadly, it is my turn to be away. Some things up north need micromanaging, it would seem. I fly out very early.”

            “How long?” Jellal asked, pulling bottles of water from the pantry.

            “Perhaps a few weeks. It depends on how things go.” He placed his used dishes in the dishwasher and crossed the kitchen to touch Erza’s shoulder. “I am glad to have seen you before I go, Erza. Goodnight to both of you.”

            Acnologia disappeared down the darkened hallway, his socks padding quietly on the wood floors.

            “I need a shower,” Erza murmured.

            “I’ll be up in a minute.” Jellal pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I just need to make sure the back gate is unlocked for the landscapers in the morning.”

            Erza took the stairs quickly and he shamelessly watched her go. A very large part of him wanted to just leave the gate locked and apologize to the gardener later but he also didn’t want to deal with a home owner’s association complaint about Erza’s hydrangea bush that now took up a sizeable corner of the yard. So, like a responsible adult, Jellal circled around the back of the house and unlocked the gate.

            When he finally closed the bedroom door on the third floor suite, he found Erza standing in front of the floor length mirror with her hands on her hips. She wore a familiar pair of black cotton shorts and a green tank top. Her hair hung in damp ropes down her back and she _scowled._

            “What’s the matter?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from the way the shorts hugged her shape. Jellal tossed his shirt over her head and into the closet hamper.

            “There’s no way you can’t tell, Jellal,” she muttered irritably. “You don’t have to be polite.”

            “I don’t know what you mean.” Erza huffed and tried to step around him but he closed his hands around her shoulders and enjoyed the scent of her orange shampoo that he’d missed so _very_ much.

            “I’m _fat,_ Jellal,” she whispered. “Just _look_ at me!”

            “I’ve been looking at you all night, Erza. That’s my problem.” The palms of his hands slid over her shoulders and down to her waist. His fingers inched beneath the edge of her tank top and he finally got to touch the skin he’d had his eye on since she’d cut through the crowd to find him. “I can’t _stop.”_

            “I’m so embarrassed!” Erza said in a dismayed pout. “I had to buy some new clothes and even a new swim top!”

            “Can I see it?” he whispered in her ear before kissing her neck.

            “No!” Erza didn’t push him away. Instead she slumped against him and looped her arms around his waist. “You really don’t care?” she asked quietly.

            “Oh, I _do.”_ He kissed her neck again and flicked his tongue out to brush against her pulse. “I care a whole bunch.”

            Erza pressed her palm against his chest and gazed up at him incredulously.

            “You _like_ that I got fat?”

            “You’re not fat, Erza. An extra ten pounds isn’t _fat.”_

            “It’s more like twenty,” she muttered.

            “Mm,” he groaned, kissing her shoulder. “Whatever.”

            His thumbs moved over the new shape of her hips before falling, _finally,_ to her ass. Erza had always been a flexible girl and he understood her body in terms of aerodynamics, shape, and musculature. _Enjoying_ her was a whole other animal but he felt like many of the same principals applied… just with fewer clothes. _Now_ her body was something new. She was cake now instead of just dinner.

            Erza was _dessert._

            “Jellal,” she whispered, finally relaxing into him and guiding his lips to her. “I can lose it, I know I can –”

            “Do you have to?”

            She froze and he pulled back an inch. Her eyes were wide. “Are you serious?”

            “As a heart attack, Erza. I’m going to love you no matter what but I can’t deny that I’ve been waiting all night to get you up here and out of your clothes.”

            Erza’s mouth opened and closed before she grinned. “Is that why you looked like you had a mouth full of sour candy when Olivia’s mother called her baby a chubby bunny?” She pushed him backwards and across the room until he fell into their bed. Erza crawled over him to perch directly over his erection.

            “I… might’ve had a reaction to her saying that, yeah.” She pulled her tank top off and he understood why she’d needed to purchase a new bikini top. Her hips, thighs, and ass were rounder, sure, but he suspected a fair amount of her weight gain had settled in her chest.

            Erza stretched out over him and wormed her hand into his pants. Her fingers closed around him snugly. He grabbed her arm and stilled her motion.

            “Erza, eight months is a hot minute and –”

            “I’d hate for you to blow everything early,” she whispered, dropping a kiss on his lips and sitting up. Erza eased her shorts and panties off and he lifted his hips so his pants could join her clothes on the floor.

            She was glorious and her weight over him was intensely satisfying. When she sank down on his cock his lungs emptied and he thought maybe he’d never breathe again. His fingers left indents in her hips and thighs. Her breasts filled his entire palm and more. He touched every swell of flesh but it wasn’t enough. Fighting off the impulse to help her along was impossible. Erza’s climax was warm and wet and his heart raced thunderously as he followed her over the edge.

            Her sigh was sinfully rich. Erza slid off him and fell into the sheets and pillows on her stomach. Without any shame whatsoever Jellal’s fingertips moved from her ankle to the more pronounced crease of skin at the juncture of thigh and rear. He finally settled beside her and pulled her body against him. Erza rolled over and left a kiss over his heart.

            “I suppose I don’t have to lose any weight right away. If you start calling me chubby bunny, though I’ll make you sleep downstairs on the couch.”

            Jellal laughed. He wouldn’t dream of pissing her off before she got tired of the extra pounds – and he hoped she never would.


End file.
